Julius Caesar

When the cab stopped in front of the hotel, I was surprised to see Augustus' Mustang parked there. I raised my eyebrows, ignored its familiarity and engaged myself with questions, majorly like, why in heaven's name was he still there?

I made my way to the room, feeling tired from all the walking and talking I'd done with Samantha. I heard loud voices coming from inside and frowned, not in the mood for drama (this day was perfect enough due to the lack of it), as I used my card copy to unlock the door. I went in and almost gasped at the scene that unfolded in front of me.

"What the hell?" I almost yelled wearily as I watched Sam hold my gun and point it at Augustus who was hiding under my bed covers, shrieking. So apparently leaving my gun didn't let her just trust me, but let her trust herself in using it.

I pursed my lips grimly, took a deep breath and quickly approached an incredibly frustrated and determined Sam. But I had absolutely no time or energy to engage in this utterly mundane occurrence. "Sam. Give me the gun," I demanded solidly as Augustus' crystal-blue eyes peeped from under the bed covers.

"Not before I kill that bloody waste of space." She spat, narrowing her eyes at a weakly smiling Augustus.

"What in heaven's name happened?" I asked with a weary sigh, and she snapped her neck in my direction.

"He tried to look under -my- skirt." She enunciated icily and I lifted my eyebrows unamusedly.

"I swear I was picking up my car's keys! She thinks everybody has bad intentions like herself-" Augustus protested and tsked teasingly.

"Are you even serious?" I asked quietly, rhetorically still in disbelief. I then turned to Sam seriously and lowered my voice. "Are you aware that the gun you are handling in unloaded? You are creating useless commotion and scaring someone I sent to help you." I clenched my fists. "Would you please be kind enough to hand me the gun and quit this nonsense? At least, respect the fact that he is someone I sent for your favour."

"I do not care." She batted her eyelashes at me, before turning to Augustus who was apparently too busy being scared to hear our little conversation.

I shook my head and sighed. "Lower the gun, Sam and just let him apologize-"

"Apologize?" Augustus sounded almost offended and I exhaled through my nose. "Why in the name of bloody dancing blueberries should I do that? I swear I hadn't looked. And even if I had," he turned to Sam. "-as it happens, you're flatter than my grandfather." He remarked and she focused the gun back at him with a scowl.

"Sam- it's a gun you're playing around with and my time you're wasting. Plea-" I started sweetly and wondered how much longer can my patience be extended when she interrupted.

"You better apologize, Augustus." She threatened and he rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you tired?" He told her, then looked at me. "She has been standing with the gun in her hands ever since we came here and I dropped my damned car keys! Goddammit, I never regretted a key-drop in my entire life as I do right now!"

I looked back at Sam in exasperation. "Okay, Sam. Please let it go." I flexed my fingers and clenched my jaws.

"Not until that son of a bitch apologizes." She said and Augustus narrowed his electric-blue eyes at her as his thick eyebrows plunged into a deeper frown.

"You did not just call me that." His voice's tone changed considerably as he glared openly at her.

Picking up at the obvious warning in his voice, I shook my head at Sam to cut it out. Something happened that I clearly didn't notice -due to my lack of interest, of course- seemed to actually offend him. He didn't hit me as the type to get easily offended.

"I. Just. Did." Sam shot back with a sneer.

Something offended him a lot, really.

Overlooking the scene with a disregarding glance, I decided not to interfere as I glanced at the powerless gun on the ground. Well- one gives the gun its power, you know?

Sam let out a small surprised yelp, but then shut up. Shamelessly bemused, I watched Augustus frown deeply as his platinum-blond hair shadowed his face and lean in to whisper loudly in her ears.

"One. My mum's not a bitch. You are. Two. Remember. You are definitely not my type." He then pushed her away with a grimace. She collapsed in my thankfully open arms (I wanted to see fall on the ground, to be honest, but I reminded myself that that was probably a 'mean' thought) and I held her easily.

She then straightened up, looked at the both of us with a scowl before running to her room which was across mine. She was probably crying or performing some emotional ritual. I thought Augustus would follow her until he just paused at my room's door.

"Great!" Augustus exhaled in frustration, lifting his right arm before dropping it and slapping his t.h.i.g.h.

A question tickled me and I actually dared to chuckle.

He turned to me with raised eyebrows. "What's so funny?"

"Why did you get ticked when she called you that? I mean, couldn't you have leapt at her before and actually relieved me from the ridiculousness of it all? I mean it was just an insult." I smirked curiously.

"She crossed her limits, mate. I cannot stand this particular insult. You know what?" He pursed his lips. "Forget it. You won't understand." He then averted his gaze distractedly. "So not only have I gotten insulted, but I also made a girl cry. I mean, that accounts for a lot of points' loss in my lady-business field." He g.r.o.a.n.e.d and I smiled slightly.

"It is okay. Especially if you didn't really mean to just pick up the keys." I raised my eyebrows. "I mean, I warned you-" I tilted my head and he lifted his eyebrows.

"How dare you underestimate my abilities, mate? I don't get intimidated. Of course, I was looking under her skirt." He shrugged nonchalantly and I nodded bemusedly.

"She should've killed you back then." I joked and he smirked.

"You'd miss me too much," he winked at me as we both got out of the room and headed toward the front door.

"Trust me, I won't." And it was obviously true. I found it quite funny that he said that. I mean, did he really mean it or was it an attempt to make a joke? It confused me, but I answered truthfully. "Where are you going, though?" I asked irrelevantly.

"Home?" He said as if it were obvious. "It's already like eleven in the evening, mate. I've been here ever since...eleven in the morning? Twelve hours, my friend, with an actual 'loca Shakira'. So I really gotta go." He opened the front door with a weird face and I smirked. "See ya, soon, Julius." With that, he swung the door close behind him.

Standing dumbly in front of the door, I decided to head to Sam's room with an exaggerated sigh.

Couldn't a day just pass drama-less?

I knocked.

"Can I come in?" I then asked hesitantly. If she was going to gratuitously sulk instead of doing something useful like saving her own life, I'd rather be there to knock some sense into her.

There was a long pause before a tiny 'yes' after which I opened the door and got in. The room was smaller in comparison to the other room. It simply had a wooden bed and a dresser. She was sitting on the left side of the bed, facing a window with her back facing me.

I sighed and sat next to her. And I was correct. She was crying. I stared at her for a long time calculating my steps (steps I didn't even have as-a-matter-of-fact). I didn't even know how to approach her and was about to get back out of the room when she turned to me angrily. Her nose was red and wrinkled and her brown eyes bright from the tears.

"Well, aren't you gonna say something?" She actually screamed at my face and I cringed.

"Like what?" I asked honestly and she narrowed her bloodshot eyes.

"Like how I deserve this? Like how 'crazy' I am?" She shouted, pointing at herself and I shook my head immediately. There was a degree of truthfulness in what she said but I was definitely planning not to get on her bad side. So lying was basically my answer key to that.

"Why would I say that?" I said, feigning shock. But to be honest, I was kind of confused.

"Because I do deserve this!" She said defeatedly and I frowned slightly.

Why was she like that? Why was she insulting herself like that? I actually thought that she was too arrogant for that.

"Deserve what? I don't get it." I said slowly, trying to comprehend the franticness swirling in her irises.

"Deserve how I'm living. In fear. Because I am mostly alone. Because I have no friend, no nothing. Because I don't know how to treat people. Becau-Because I'm a bloody loser!"

I stared at her, mouth wide open. I did not expect that side of her. I never thought she even comprehended insecurity. Turned out she defined it.

"But what does Augustus have to do with any this?" I managed to ask still confused and shocked.

"Didn't you hear what he said? He said I wasn't his type! I'm nobody's type and I hate that." She was full-on sobbing, sniffing, and m.o.a.ning while I pathetically raised my eyebrows in response.

"How could you be his type if you wanted to kill him for being himself?" I shook my head subtly and stared at her.

"I don't know!" She said exasperatedly, wringing her hands and I frowned. "I don't even know what I don't know." She m.o.a.n.e.d miserably to herself as she looked in front of her.

I looked at her thoughtfully. Only one thing seemed to make sense after shuffling around different scenarios.

"Do you like him? Augustus?" I asked, lowering my voice to hide my surprise.

She looked at me for a long time before bursting into more tears and nodding. My eyes widened and I almost laughed. I probably did. And I was also probably praying God to get me out of this ASAP. Turned out that I was being s.u.c.k.e.d into every romantic disaster possible. Caroline and now -uh- this.

"Goodness, Sam Ricardo," I breathed. "Why didn't you say that from the beginning?"

"Isn't it obvious that I'm all over him?" She said, crossing her arms and this time I actually laughed humorlessly.

"Well, if you call trying to kill him obvious, then affirmative."

She sniffed loudly and I smirked, shaking my head.

"You're unbelievable," I muttered and she frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Is this how you treat someone you like?" I inquired and she immediately got up, scaring me, to be honest. Her emotions were too much for me. She was either too happy, too sad, too confident, too annoying or too damn angry. She was unruly.

"Are you saying that I don't...deserve him?" She said slowly, looking at me with wide eyes, her hands pointing toward her c.h.e.s.t, waiting for an explanation. An explanation she wanted to hear.

I cleared my throat. "Goodness, no... But you really ought to change your ways. How do you know him anyway?" I asked curiously, and she removed some hair strands that fell over her face.

"He's Zig's childhood best friend. He studies business. But at another university. He lives alone. His mother is dead and his father is somewhere around. He has no one really." She pushed back her hair, and I smirked.

"It's okay. You can make it up to him." I shrugged, but she started crying again.

Ugh. I was absolutely revolted by her actions.

"How can I? He said-" She paused to sniff. "He said I wasn't his type! He was my only hope in myself."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Sam. Please. Calm down. It's going to be okay. I'll tell him-"

"Are you out of your mind?!" She bellowed and I took a deep breath. "Tell him what?"

"Jesus, I was just going to tell him that you're sorry." She wasn't making any sense. I didn't know what was her problem.

"Do not."

I raised my eyebrows, then shrugged. "Okay then. Suit yourself. I do not know what do you want. So when you know what you want, tell me. I'm leaving," I said exasperatedly, getting up and making my way to the door.

"Wait!"

I turned around, sighing.

"You can tell him I'm sorry." She said hesitantly. "Or you know what? Do not. He deserved it anyway."

"You love him," I said irritably as if putting some sense into her. "It's okay to apologize, even if your ego is the victim. Dammit, that's how we do things to those whom we love."

Okay. I believe I needed another standing ovation for that line.

She squeezed shut her eyes, rubbed them then looked at me. "Okay. Whatever. Call him or something."

I took in a deep, calming breath and left the bloody room, closing the door behind me. I entered my room and immediately dialled Augustus' number. I did not want an emotionally frustrated Sam. And if getting things right with Augustus was going to help, then be it.

"Goodness, what happened in the few minutes I left you in?" His voice blared in my ear.

"Nothing of much importance. Sam just wanted to tell you that she apologizes." I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Well tell her- Go. F.u.c.keth. Thyself. Because no one gets to call me a 'son of a bitch'. Besides if she really did feel bad she would've called herself." He said and I winced at the impossibility of his request. "She hates me and the feeling is bloody mutual."

I shut my eyes and shook my head. "She doesn't hate you," I said slowly and heard him sigh on the other end.

"Mate, I do not care about her anyway, so what's that phone call about?" He said, and I actually felt angry at Sam. If it weren't for her indecisive personality, she would've been at a much better mental state to be bloody useful.

"Okay. Never mind. Where are you anyway?" I asked boredly as he yawned.

"On my bed. Why?"

"I don't know. I was just asking," I said randomly and he laughed. It was quite random, as a matter of fact. I did not know what to say and I didn't want it to appear as if I called him for the 'Sam drama'.

"Okay. I'm on the bed eating some pistachios and watching sponge bob for some reason." He snorted and I chuckled lightly.

"So not p.o.r.n?" I smirked and he tsked.

"Surprisingly, no," he said and I suppressed a smile. "Okay, mate, I really gotta go poop."

I raised my eyebrows. "Okay. Get lost."

I then hung up, took off all my clothes, wore some sweatpants and sat on the bed's edge, my head in my good hand.

The door to my room was then barged open and I immediately got up to find Sam standing in the doorway eagerly. "What did he tell you?" She then said in a small voice, her eyes bright.

I looked at her not knowing what to say. Was I supposed to tell her that he thought she hated him and so he hated her too? How could I deliver such a message anyway without sounding absolutely mean? And 'mean' was a word I couldn't associate with for a while.

"Well? Aren't you going to tell me what he said?" She pressed and I looked up at her, shaking my head slowly, hoping she got the message.

"He isn't happy, is he?" She said slowly and I nodded quietly, suppressing a smirk. Drama. Drama.

She shut her eyes, clasped her hands, pursed her lips, opened her eyes and turned to leave. After a few minutes, I heard the door of her room slam shut. I shook my head and sighed as I returned to bed not knowing how to help her help me.

---

Alexander's POV.

"Very nice indeed," I said sarcastically. "So both, Sam and Julius disappeared. Indeed. Very nice," I clutched my phone harder.

"Sir, when we asked, they said that he left just this morning at eight," Philip said uselessly. "And when we searched other hotels we couldn't find his name."

"Of course you couldn't! He changed his bloody name! I told you not to bloody underestimate him!" I breathed through my nose.

"What can we do, Sir?" His voice was low and hesitant.

"Look for him! What else? He has platinum-blond hair. Not everyone has that natural hair colour. He's young and almost always wears a jade-green scarf. He'll be easy to spot if you bloody work on it! He'll definitely be around the university at any time. I've already sent you pictures, dammit!" I clenched my jaws.

"We can't search all of London, Sir."

"Well, what have I hired your arses for? Playing around, you wanker?" I snapped, loudly.

"We're trying-"

"He has the girl too. If you find any of them, the other will be there. It's easy," I said firmly.

"We're trying. Sir-"

But I hung up on him with a tightened c.h.e.s.t. I was even surprised that I started hyperventilating and sat up from my bed. I took in a deep breath and gulped a cup of water that rested on my bedside table.

I dialled Augustus' number, but he didn't answer. The line was busy. I wondered who he was talking to. I frowned and laid down on my bed.

I needed to breathe.