“Time sure seems to fly, doesn’t it?”
Timik pulled up a stool and sat in one of the empty spaces at the table. Phovos and Kayen sat on the other side of the table while Kohra was in the kitchen, fetching drinks and snacks.
“I guess…” Kayen sighed. “I assume you three have all been doing well?”
“Oh definitely!” Timik bounced in his seat. “Everything has been amazing! I got a new job, I’m making tons of moolah, I’m swimming in females, it’s all awesome!”
Kohra finally sat down, brining a massive bowl of fried potato slices and cheese with him. “Well that’s good to hear, Timik. I’ve just been doing my normal stuff.”
“What do you do normally?”
“Charity work.”
Timik glanced at Phovos and Kayen.
“Kohra’s super rich…” Kayen tutted. “Like, super, super rich.”
“Well, it’s not all…” Kohra hesitated, then smiled and explained. “Being the son of an emperor, you do kinda end up having more money than you know what to do with. So I’ve been putting it to good use doing charity work and helping the needy. You two been doing well? I heard you’re not in charge of Palaestra any more, Phovos?”
Phovos shook her head but didn’t say anything.
“You alright, lass?” Timik asked.
“Not really…” Phovos finally admitted. “I’m kinda regressed right now. One of the side effects of being over a thousand years old, I go through stages of random mental development. Right now I’m a depressed 26-year old who doesn’t know what to do with herself.”
“Oh, just like me then!” Kayen interrupted. “You got no friends either? Does everyone think you’re fucked up and all you can think about is how pathetic you are and how you want to die?”
“I’m going to assume that you ain’t doing well, mate!” Timik tried to be friendly. “You, er, okay?”
Kayen sighed. “No…”
“You want to talk?”
“No…”
Kayen got up from the table and tried to leave, but Phovos grabbed him by the arm and forced him to sit back down.
“You need help.”
“I know exactly what I need to do to help myself get out of this mess…” Kayen hissed. “I’m not doing it because I’m dumb.”
“You mean you’re depressed and don’t have the energy… I know how you feel…” Phovos patted Kayen on the back. “There’s not much I can say to make you feel better, but I get how you feel.”
The little Skyavok pulled away. “You can pity me but I don’t deserve… Ugh…” Kayen got up again. “I’m just gonna go home. I have stuff I should be doing anyway.”
Again, Phovos pulled Kayen back to the table. “You need to talk.”
“Please, I don’t want to talk. I know what’s wrong. I’ve always…”
“You have a mental health issue,” Kohra interrupted. “I’m not in the place to diagnose you, none of us are, but you genuinely have some sort of problem, and we care about you, so if you want someone to talk to or cry on…”
“Yeah, what he said!” Timik smiled as he pulled something out of a trouser pocket. “Here, have a candy bar.” The bulky Temthan thrust the bar into Kayen’s hands.
“Something tells me this isn’t legal at home…” Kayen tutted as he read the ingredients. “This has… Is that LSD?”
Timik shrugged. “What’s LSD?”
“A mind-altering substance…”
“That explains a lot!” Kohra half-smiled.
“Us Temthans like our luxuries!” Timik beamed. “Getting stoned after a good day of work and all that! Surely you all like that too!”
Kayen shook his head. “Not me.”
“You don’t like going home and fucking your girlfriend?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Yeah but Phovos does!” Timik beamed. Kayen and Kohra both glanced at Phovos. Not because of Timik’s claims, but because they were both pretty sure that Timik was currently stoned. “Phovos is dating the fricking time god!”
“I… I don’t remember telling anyone that…” Phovos muttered after a very long, very awkward silence.
“Nah, I just guessed!” Timik laughed. “Maybe Kayen could date the fricking death god and you all go on a double date together!”
“That’s fucking retarded!” Kayen snapped as he leaped from his seat and grabbed his belongings. “Fuck this, I’m going home!”
“Bye!” Timik waved, the door slamming shut behind him.
Phovos and Kohra both stared at Timik, tutting.
“What?” Timik asked. “He needs a girlfriend!”
Kohra sighed as he helped himself to some mead. “Yeah, maybe, but you don’t need to be a cunt about it…”