Money

Ian felt the cold wind slap against his legs. He opened an eye and saw Tristan looking down at him.

"I can't believe you're asleep by this time of the morning."

Ian groaned and turned to the other side. He was already drifting off to sleep again when he felt someone breathing on his lips. He jerked awake.

"Oh, my God!" He breathed, pissed. "What the heck? This early morning?"

Tristan glanced at the clock in total amusement. "Early morning? It's 6:13am." Ian stared at him in disbelief.

"How did you even get in here?" He vividly remembered locking the door.

"Room service was very helpful in helping a very handsome, young man." He wiggled his brows at Ian then slapped his thighs. "Go get a shower, Man, we're hitting the gym." It was then that Ian noticed he was wearing a pair of Joggers.

Ian groaned in protest and pulled the cover over his head. "Can't we go later, say 8:00?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you!"

"Not!"

"Fuck you!"

Tristan slapped his thigh again. "Get up, lazybones." He dragged the blanket away from Ian and he had no other choice than to spring up, when the wind hit him. He couldn't sleep anymore. He went into the bathroom.

"You're a pain in the butt."

"What else are Friends for?" Tristan just laughed out loud.

As time went by, he couldn't endure the boredom. He turned on the television, but he had watched the episode of the Series. He switched to a football station, but they were just going on their first break. He put a channel, Keeping Up With The Kardashians was being broadcasted. It wasn't for him. Maybe it wasn't his day to enjoy, or it was just too early. He turned off the television and walked round the room for the nth time. In the end, he decided Ian was taking too much time and if he came out and began to search for clothes, it would take much more time. So, on the fifth round, he stopped in front of the closet and drew it open.

But he didn't start searching for clothes immediately. He first of all, pulled out a Rolex watch and tried it on. It was just the perfect size, he and Ian were almost the same size, length and weight. Ian was just two pounds heavier. He pulled the watch and for some reason, his gaze fell on a devilish, long, black Louis Vuitton jacket. Tristan fell in love Immediately. He pulled the hanger from it, wore it and went to see his reflection in the mirror.

"Gods!" He breathed. He loved how he was looking right now; iconic and dapper in the black jacket. It was just so long, it left trails around him.

There and then, he concluded Ian was going nowhere near this cloth. He removed it and took the hanger back to the closet, empty. Tristan was just about to close the door when his eyes caught something. He was the curious type. He brought it out, it was a bag. A slightly heavy bag. He carried it to the bed, tossed the jacket on it and dropped the bag, unzipping it in a haste.

What he saw made his heart jump. "Oh, my God!"

What the... It would have been up to 7,000,000 but it was dumped like that?

Ian was simply careless. Anybody could have just walked in and taken it, didn't he think of that? But thinking of it, he never carried money about like this. What changed him? Well, he shrugged, someone might have given it to him to give to someone, or he needed cash at hand. Anything could happen, really. He took the bag back to the closet. When he got back, he wore the cloth again and switched on the television. He switched stations and switched, but it seemed every single one of them were head-bent on broadcasting the same thing.

"Why does the most boring things take the longest time?" He sighed switching off the television, then began on another adventure, still wearing the jacket, without a care in the World whether it would get dirty or not. All he cared was, it was on his body.

He walked to the edge of the bed and brought up the lamp, examining it more closely than he did the last times. When he was about to turn away, he heard the shrieking of the alarm clock from the cupboard. He paused and pulled it open. It wasn't an alarm clock, it was Ian's phone. In the cupboard? He sat on the floor and turned it on. When he tried to unlock it, it wouldn't unlock, just shrieked 'wrong password'. He frowned. Ian changed his password? Since when? He was becoming too secretive lately. Or he just wanted a private life. He thought, trying to cover up for someone he was close to. What he did on a daily basis if someone dared talk wrong about Ian.

But the question was still there. Why now? He shrugged again in an 'I don't care' manner and put the phone back in the drawer, but when he wanted to pull his hand out, his fingers brushed something. Something little. He brought it out and examined it closely when he saw what it looked like. It looked like a Detonator.

What could it... He gazed intensely at the white little thing with the small red button. Just then, Ian came out of the bathroom. He straightened.

"I thought you were sleeping there."

Ian waved it off. "You made me lose my appetite." It was then he turned his gaze to Tristan. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from my stuff? Now remove that jacket."

Tristan glanced down at the cloth in protest. "But it looks good on me."

"I don't care. Pull it. Now. And stop going through my stuff."

"Oh, now you want to be private because you don't want me to find out about the money, you greedy creature. But too late, I already did." He raised his hand. "And this thing. What is this?"

Ian seemed to have gone stiff long enough for Tristan to notice. His face was tight when he spoke. "Stop nosing about, Tristan. Keep that, too."

He wasn't foolish enough not to notice the change in his mood, however. He pulled the jacket slowly, "who's the money from and what is this?" He threw it to Ian. He caught it mid-air.

"None of your business." He said opening the closet door, but Tristan followed him. He was getting suspicious.

"Ian!" He said sternly but the Man didn't bother to answer. He sighed. "I don't really know what's come over you. First, I found some crazy amount of money in your closet, you changed your password, and now, there's some kind of detonator in your drawer. Just what is wrong with you?"

Ian stared at him for a moment, the same way he would stare at a fool. "What's your point?"

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit. You...."

Ian interrupted him with a kind of outburst. "The only bullshit here, is you come into my room by six in the morning, force me out of bed and search my room for god knows what!"

Tristan stared. With surprise replaced by hurt in his eyes, he said, "if you're implying I'm a thief, well, pft, I'm not." He started explaining with perfect calmness. "I was just searching for something for you to wear so you wouldn't waste more time looking for one when you finally got out of the bathroom. But obviously," he said a bit sarcastically, "my help was unwanted. Here's your jacket." He threw it to Ian and walked towards the door.

Ian called after him just when he got to the door. "Where are you going?"

He shrugged again. "Who cares?" And he was out the door. Ian didn't like the way he said it one bit.

It was too dead for someone like Tristan.