xiii. THE TELL

THIRTEEN.

THE TELL

Eggsy Unwin was drunk.

Incredibly so, in fact. He spun slightly from side to side on the leather barstool. The black marble counter in front of him was already beginning to blur with the pulsing lights around him. The thumping base sounded far away, even though he could feel it under his feet and in his chest.

He had only had one glass of champagne, and yet he could barely feel the fingers wrapped around the glass in front of him. It should have worried him, but right now Eggsy welcomed the numb, warm feeling the alcohol brought.

The last thing he wanted to be was sober while Bex was off flirting with some guy.

They had been sitting together in the shiny leather booth with Roxy, but a tall boy with dark curls had asked her dance. He had kissed her hand, then flashed Eggsy a dimpled grin before leading her into the writhing mass of people. Bex had turned to flash him an apologetic smile, but she didn't really look that sorry. He had let her go, and now he was sitting alone in this club, trying to forget he had.

The strobe lights bounced over bodies twisting in the dark like shadows, each flash bringing a piece of someone into the light. A hand reaching out, a mouth curled into a smile, an eye half-closed. Pieces of people, but never the whole story. His eyes raked over the length of the club, stopping every time they came across a head of dark hair.

A girl twirled, her black hair falling around her shoulders, and he straightened. Then a flash of pink illuminated her face and he saw that it wasn't Bex. Eggsy slumped back, tracing his empty glass with a finger.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he jumped. Roxy slid sloppily onto the stool next to him, a playful grin on her face. He hadn't even noticed she was gone.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you sulking?"

Eggsy tucked his chin into the crook of his arms, where he had crossed them and planted him on the table. He stuck out his lower lip as he stared at the brightly lit wall of bottles across from him.

"I'm not sulking," he said petulantly.

He was sulking.

Roxy scoffed. "You look like the halfway point of a romance movie. You know, when the guy and the girl fight and the guy sits alone in the rain being sad before they get back together."

"Yeah, except in my romance movie the guy and the girl never got together and never will," Eggsy mumbled.

Roxy scooted closer and squinted at him. She wobbled slightly as she placed her chin in the palm of her hand.

"I know you're suffering from some kind of emotional turmoil, but I'm having trouble focusing on it because when you frown the crease between your eyebrows looks like a butt."

"How drunk are you, Rox?" Eggsy asked, dodging her hand as she tried to poke the place in between his eyes.

"Pretty drunk. You?"

"Pretty drunk," he conceded, feeling the floor move in waves underneath him, although he hadn't moved.

Roxy let out a squeal and threw her arms up. She wrapped them around Eggsy and squeezed him tightly. If he had been more sober, he probably would've been more concerned about losing a limb to Roxy's vise-like grip.

"We're both drunk!" she crowed. "We're young and hot and nothing can stop us!"

"My alcohol tolerance might stop us," Eggsy groaned.

"Your biological functions are ruining my night," Roxy complained. "Plus, you're looking really miserable, and that's not really what I'm going for right now."

"Bex is dancing with this guy who looks like a freaking Greek god. I think he had an eight pack. Is that even possible?"

Roxy craned her neck to get a glance then whistled appreciatively.

"You should be definitely be miserable. He's gorgeous."

"I thought you liked girls," Eggsy grumbled.

"Mostly girls. But why just try one flavor of ice cream, you know? Get yourself a taco and a hotdog."

"Why are you using only food metaphors to explain your sexuality?"

"I'm very drunk," Roxy said sagely. "And what you need, my friend, or as they say in Spanish, mi friendo-"

"That's not Spanish."

"-is more alcohol!" Roxy continued loudly.

She waved the bartender over. "Two flaming tequila shots, please."

Eggsy groaned again.

Roxy looked at him sternly. "Eggsy, I can still feel my legs, which means I'm not drunk enough. Now, don't be a little bitch. Drink your shot."

"They warned me about peer pressure in school. I should've listened."

"I'm just trying to help! Something's got your goat, I can tell."

"Nothing's got my goat," he snapped. "My goat is still here. I'm in full possession of my goat."

"It's Bex, isn't it? She's got your goat."

Eggsy made a noise of protest, but his eyes had already shifted back towards where Bex and the boy were dancing. Roxy craned her neck to watch them. Eggsy looked away. They looked good together, tall and dark haired, like two flames burning brightly against the dull colors of everyone else. It made his stomach churn.

"Who cares," he muttered. "I don't care at all. I literally could not care less."

"Hmm. I kind of feel like you care." Roxy sipped her champagne casually. "Probably because you're in love with her, but who knows."

Eggsy choked. He bent over as he began coughing furiously. His face burned as he whipped around to face Roxy. He tried to deny it but all he could manage was an impressive amount of stammering.

"That was a stunning display of grammatical coherence, Eggsy, thank you. Will you be doing a sonnet next, or are you more of a limerick kind of guy?"

"Shut up."

"You didn't answer my question," Roxy said, gaze unwavering.

Eggsy shakily tried to get out of his seat, but Roxy grabbed his shoulder and sat him back down. He looked around desperately for an escape. He pointed into the crowd wildly.

"That man is on fire! Look at the Human Torch and stop asking me personal questions!"

"No one is on fire."

"You didn't even look! Someone might be!"

"The only thing burning around here is your passionate and eternal yearning for Bex."

A child-like grin was already spreading across her face. She began to hop in unsteady circles around him. It was hard to believe this was the same girl who had given him two black eyes just weeks ago with deadly precision and focus.

"Eggsy's in love with Bex," she sang jubilantly.

He slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Roxy! Quit it! I am not!"

"Oh, you so are," she said with a mischievous grin. "This is the best day of my life."

"Seriously, I'm not!"

Roxy turned to him then, face devoid of all silliness. She looked up at him seriously.

"Eggsy, you know you can tell me anything."

"Yes, I know, but-"

"And I know you better than anyone."

"Okay, fine, but-"

"I am your best friend other than Bex, who doesn't count anymore because you're in love with her."

"Roxy!-"

"For example, I know that your favorite color is orange. And because I am your friend I don't judge you even though, ew, orange is the worst. And I know you like bagels with mustard, also ew, and that one time, you waited six hours to get a t-shirt autographed by Beyoncé-"

"She's an icon."

"-but most of all, I know you hate lying. So tell me the truth, Eggsy."

Roxy was staring up at him expectantly.

"I'm not in love with her!" he repeated.

Roxy leaned back in her stool. "Did you know you have a tell, Eggsy?"

"A what?"

"Something you do when you lie. Eggsy, every time you lie you clench your hands into fists. And guess what you're doing right now?"

Eggsy looked down. He hadn't even realized his hands had curled into tight fists while he was talking.

The music was so loud it hurt his ears, but he could barely hear it over the blood roaring in his ears. Everything was too bright, and his face felt hot. He was determined to stay silent, but he could feel the alcohol parting his lips to say words he couldn't take back.

"Fine!" he burst out. "Yes! I'm in- I have feelings for her. Or...Jesus. I don't know."

Roxy was already staring at him with her jaw hanging open.

"I knew it," she said faintly. "I think I'm going to pass out from joy. I knew it."

Eggsy groaned, letting his head fall forward into his hands.

"Roxy, you don't understand. I just...I like her so much that it hurts sometimes, and she doesn't even know I'm alive," he said miserably.

"Um, she obviously knows you're alive. I know you're alive too, because, like, you're right here. Breathing and shit."

"That's not what I meant. I meant- God, what do I mean? She's off dancing with some boy and I'm sitting here and getting drunk. She's not thinking about me, but I'm thinking about her. It's just not fair."

"No one ever said love was fair."

"But why can't it? Why can't it be easy?" he groaned.

"Because you're a teenager. And also a spy. That complicates shit."

The word spy broke through his drunken haze. He lifted his head, feeling as though he had forgotten something. He searched his brain to remember why they were even in this club in the first place.

"Hang on, wasn't there something we were supposed to be doing right now? I don't think Merlin sent us here to get pissed."

"You're wrong. Merlin sent us here to do shots and talk about the truly pathetic state of your love life."

"My love life is not pathetic!"

"Sure, and Leonardo DiCaprio has only won one Oscar," Roxy scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Leonardo DiCaprio has only won one Oscar."

"Seriously? That man was robbed!" Roxy exclaimed, looking affronted.

Eggsy laid his head down on the cool marble counter top. "People never get what they deserve."

"Oh, please. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can't complain about Bex dancing with someone else if you never asked her to dance."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying you'll never have a chance if you never tell her how you feel."

"Oh, that's perfect, Roxy," he said sarcastically. "Because that's exactly how real life works. I'll just tell her and then she'll suddenly and instantly fall in love with me."

"Who'll fall in love with you?" a new voice chimed in.

Eggsy whirled around to see Bex, dropping his glass. He didn't even hear it shatter. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest as he tried to figure out how much she had heard.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, trying to sound casual, but hearing his voice waver slightly.

"Just got here," Bex said, tucking her hair behind her ears with both hands. "Who were you guys talking about?"

"The heiress! The one we're supposed to be seducing with our NLP training. Our mission, remember?" Roxy said, looking at Eggsy pointedly.

"Er- right! We were just discussing strategy to get her to fall for us," Eggsy stammered.

Bex looked at the two of them.

"Right. Okay. I'm going to go actually find the heiress, but you two can keep sitting here getting drunk and chatting about your NLP training."

"Will do!" Roxy said, flashing her a thumbs up and a toothy grin.

Bex just shook her head and turned away. Eggsy didn't breathe again until he had disappeared back into the crowd. He pressed his palms to his face.

"God, that was close."

"Eggsy, remember how I said everyone has a tell?"

"Yeah?"

"When Bex lies she tucks her hair behind her ears."

Eggsy felt his chest constrict. His head was spinning badly and he felt like he could barely keep himself upright. He turned to Roxy, only to find that she was slumped over the counter, unconscious. He shook her, but she didn't move.

"Rox?" he said slowly.

He started to feel a new kind of fear replace the panic he had just felt about Bex. His words felt thick in his mouth, his lips moving too slowly. The world was starting to spin away from him, and he blinked frantically to get things to straighten out. He reached for the counter to steady himself, but his finger only found air and soon he found the floor rushing up to meet him. Eggsy tried to reach out an arm, but he felt himself losing consciousness, the darkness claiming him.

☂

It was insufferably hot in the club.

Bex felt her hair sticking to the back of her neck as she pushed past writhing bodies. Her forehead was beaded with sweat. The club was small and dark and filled to the brim will enough people to make her feel trapped. More than anything, she wanted to leave, but she had a mission.

And judging by the state of Eggsy and Roxy, she might be the only one sober enough to complete it. They had been so drunk she was surprised they had managed to stay upright on the bar stools. Bex, on the other hand, was painfully sober. A shot or two might've taken the edge off her claustrophobia, but Bex didn't drink. She had never touched a drop of alcohol, and she planned to keep it that way. She'd seen the way it destroyed her mother, the way it devastated the people in her neighborhood, and she had vowed long ago that she would never be like them.

Instead, she clutched a glass of seltzer water, trying not to spill it as she maneuvered through the crowd. Bex finally spotted a flash of blonde hair in one of the leather booths. As she got closer, she saw that the heiress she was targeting had company. If Charlie's prone body counted as company. He was slumped over the table, completely passed out.

Bex rolled her eyes.

"And they say chivalry is dead right?" she quipped, sliding into the booth next to the blonde girl.

"I'm Bex," she said, flashing a smile and extending a hand for her to shake.

The heiress looked her up and down before shaking her hand. She let her hand linger in Bex's, smirking.

"I'm Lady Sophia Montague-Herring. You can call me Sophie."

"Sophie," Bex said slowly. "Cute."

Bex leaned in slightly. She took a lock of Sophie's blonde hair in between her fingers. "Is this real? Sorry, but I had to ask. No one has hair this perfect."

"Oh, trust me. Everything about me is real," Sophie said with a wink.

Bex pretended to blush.

"Let me get you a drink," Sophie said, extending a thin arm to the waiter.

"Oh, that's all right-" Bex protested, but a glass of vividly gold champagne had already been placed in front of her.

Sophie lifted her own glass to her lips, watching Bex over the crystal rim. Bex bit her lip. Sophie nodded, urging her on. Bex pretended to give in, lifting the glass to her lips. She kept them firmly shut as she tipped the glass back, not letting any liquid past them.

Sophie watched her closely as she placed the glass back on the counter.

"Delicious," Bex said, smiling.

"It's strong stuff. I'm surprised you seem so...sober."

"I have a high alcohol tolerance," Bex said breezily. "Now, I don't know about you, but I feel like dancing. Care to join me?"

Sophie grabbed her purse off the seat. "I'd love to."

"Are you sure you don't want to leave that behind?" Bex asked, her brow creasing in confusion.

She let out a tinkling laugh, slinging a bag that cost probably as much as a years worth of Bex's rent over her shoulder. "Oh, that's all right. I don't quite trust the people in this club. You never know who they'll let in."

"Yeah," Bex said slowly. "You never know."

Sophie grabbed her hand, leading the brunette back into the fray of people and flashing lights. They began to dance in the middle of the club's floor. Bex let her hips move to the beat, feeling the bass pulse under her feet. Sophie wrapped her arms around Bex's neck as she moved side to side sinuously, bringing her closer. Bex kept dancing as Sophie's face dipped dangerously close to hers. Her nose brushed Bex's. Then Bex felt a stinging pain in the back of her neck.

She gasped as her limbs immediately began to seize up. Her vision began to blur, but she could see the metallic flash of the syringe in Sophie's hand as she pulled her arms back away from Bex's neck. She slumped forward onto Sophie, her body unresponsive.

"What did you do?" she gasped.

"You didn't drink the champagne," Sophie said simperingly. "And I wasn't hired to get you where you need to go sober. Sorry, Bex. You're cute, but you're not my type."

"I'm everyone's type," Bex said through gritted teeth before crumpling to the floor.

People began to step back, looking down in concern at the collapsed girl. Bex watched as they began to form a circle around her. She tried to lift her head, but Sophie pressed her heel into her back and she fell back to the ground.

"It's okay!" Sophie cried out cheerily, waving them away. "She's just had a bit too much to drink."

Bex tried to shout, but the words refused to leave her lips.

Sophie began to drag Bex off the dance floor. Bex reached out, trying to grab something to anchor herself, but she was moving too slowly. Everything was passing in slow motion, and the music had become a dull thrum. Soon, she felt herself stop fighting. The heat of the club faded into freezing cold darkness, and Bex let herself be pulled under.

☂

"Oh, good, you're waking up."

A harsh, grating voice brought Bex out of her drug-induced sleep. She slowly resurfaced, feeling the darkness fade away. She blinked blearily, trying to get her surroundings to come into focus. The back of her neck ached where Sophie had stabbed her with the syringe, and her wrists felt strangely sore.

She was flat on her back, and something was pressing painfully against her lower body. Bex tried to sit up, but found there was something holding her down. She looked over to see her wrists bound on either side of her. The ropes that kept her restrained had rubbed the skin raw. Her feet were similarly tied to what looked like metal beam.

"Oh, fuck. This again?" she croaked.

The ceiling over her head was dark, but she could smell the metallic earth that meant they were underground. The chamber trembled slightly, and a fine dusting of dirt rained down upon her. Everything was dimly lit, and she couldn't see who her captor was.

"It doesn't have to be like this," the same rock salt rasp called out slowly.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

A figure moved into the light. It was the waiter who had brought her the champagne. His bald head gleamed in the low light. He was wearing a dark overcoat on top of his white waiter's tux, his face twisted up into a cruel grin.

"A trench coat? Really? Ugh, that is so typical villain of you," Bex groaned. "Like, if you're going to kill me, at least wear something original. You never hear about serial killers in striped tights, do you?"

"Funny," the man said. He didn't sound amused. "Bex, do you want to die?"

"Honestly, hadn't planned on it tonight. The new Stars Wars movie is coming out soon and I was kind of hoping I'd be alive to go see it."

"I can save you," he said, holding out a long, sharp knife. "This knife could save your life. I could cut your bonds right now and you would walk right out, free to see any movie you liked."

"There's a catch coming isn't there? Damn, I never get anything for free."

The man glanced left, towards the end of the room.

"All you have to do is answer two questions for me."

"Where can I find a proper hairdresser, and why don't women like me?"

"What is Kingsman?" the man said through gritted teeth. "And who the hell is Harry Hart?"

"No clue. Sounds like a porn star name."

"Bex, stop fucking around!" the man yelled, showing the first sign of frustration. He looked to his left. "I'm offering you the chance to live!"

"And I'm offering you the chance to fuck off!"

He walked towards her, the knife glinting in his hand. "I just killed two of your friends for refusing to give me the answer to my question. Do you really think I won't do the same to you?"

Bex faltered. He was bluffing, he had to be. She had just seen Eggsy and Roxy. They couldn't be dead. But her heart refused to listen, and it skipped a beat.

"You're lying," she said, a slight tremor in her voice.

"Tell me, Bex. Is Kingsman worth dying for? Is it worth letting your friends die in vain for?"

Bex realized why the man kept glancing left. The room wasn't a room at all, but a tunnel. And the hard metal underneath her was train tracks. The dim light in the room was getting steadily brighter, and the rumbling was growing greater. The ground trembled, and she felt her stomach lurch. A train was coming. And she was trapped in its path.

"Is Kingsman worth dying for?" the man related, insistent.

Bex ignored him. She strained against her ropes, letting out a cry of frustration. The train was getting closer. She felt her blood pumping, ice cold with panic. She thrashed harder, trying to get free.

"Let me out of here!" she yelled, not taking her eyes off the train, which was steadily growing closer.

"Answer my questions!" the man replied, yelling over the roar of the oncoming train.

She finally looked him in the eyes. The roar of the train grew louder. She gripped her ropes under her fingers and braced herself. Her heart was beating wildly.

"Go to hell," she said through gritted teeth.

Bex squeezed her eyes shut as the train bore down on her.

But instead of blinding pain, Bex felt the ground drop downwards with sickening speed. The section of the tracks she was bound to had slid down into the ground, and Bex watched in shock as the train passed over her head. It flew by so quickly it ripped the breath from her lungs. The train disappeared down the other end of the tunnel just as suddenly, its blaring horn nothing more than an echo. The platform rose slowly until Bex was back on the tracks, as if nothing had happened.

She looked around in disbelief, barely able to believe she was still alive. The waiter began to clap slowly. She stared at him. Then he reached for the back of his head and brought his hands forward. Bex watched as he peeled the skin right off his face. A mask. The waiter's cruel smile and balding head lay crumpled in the hands of Harry Hart.

"Congratulations, Bex. Bloody well done," he beamed.

Bex stared at him with her mouth open and her chest still heaving.

"What the fuck?" she cried out eventually.

"This was a test of loyalty, and you passed with flying colors. I could've done without the sarcasm, but bravo aside."

"You tried to kill me with a train! You drugged me! You pretended to be bald!"

"Were those in order of escalating offense? I didn't think my having hair was so important to you."

Harry bent down and sliced through the ropes that bound her to the tracks. She rubbed the raw skin on her wrists and looked at him reproachfully.

"Oh, stop whining, Bex. You're alive."

"And the others? It was just a bluff, right? They're not...not-"

"Dead? No. Roxy and Eggsy performed beautifully."

"And Charlie?"

"He's up next. Would you like to watch?"

Bex grinned. "Do you even have to ask?"

Harry offered her a hand up. Bex paused a moment, then took it, getting to her feet. She brushed the dirt off the front of her pants.

"You ruined my favorite jeans," she complained to Harry.

"You were supposed to dress up."

"Duh. These are my nice jeans," Bex said, sticking out a leg. "See? No dirt or blood."

Harry closed his eyes like he was praying. He shook his head briefly, then turned to the subway wall. He felt along the rough surface until he seemingly found what he was looking for. He pressed his palm to the wall. A section of it lit up blue, scanning his hand. The tunnel wall rolled away to reveal a secret room lined with monitors.

"Cool," Bex grinned, following him in.

Eggsy and Roxy were already waiting inside. Eggsy had a small cut on his cheek and Roxy's hair had escaped its perfect curls, but they looked no worse for the wear.

"Come to enjoy the show?" Eggsy asked, jerking his head towards the screen.

Charlie was squirming on the tracks, a look of sheer panic on his face.

"I hope he gets sent home," Bex said.

"I hope he wets himself," Roxy added, arms crossed.

"I hope he cries," Eggsy grinned.

Harry stared at them.

"You're all horrible," he said.

Bex shrugged. On the screen, Charlie screamed and thrashed, trying to break free. She watched the same face of the waiter looming over the tracks. Harry pressed a button, and the grainy black and white video suddenly had sound. Charlie's squeals echoed throughout the room.

"Is Kingsman worth dying for?" Arthur asked through his disguise.

Charlie didn't even hesitate.

"Fuck no!" he screamed. "I'll tell you anything you want!"

Roxy squinted. "Does it look like he's wet himself? I think he's wet himself."

"Chester King is Arthur. Arthur's the head of a spy agency called Kingsman. Now, get me out of here!" Charlie yelped, squirming.

"Thank you, Charlie. Much appreciated," Arthur said, his true self still hidden under the waiter's facade.

"Come on! That wasn't the fucking deal!" Charlie protested when he began to turn away.

Bex smirked as she watched Arthur reveal himself. Charlie's look of horror and shock was enough to satisfy her desire to punch him in the face.

"I had such high hopes for you. You're a bloody disgrace," Arthur spat.

"Arthur, I'm sorry. At least untie me!"

Arthur cast Charlie a disdainful look. "Untie yourself."

The video feed cut out. Bex stared at the black screen for a moment before turning to Eggsy. She ignored the small tremor of fear that accompanied the thought of Charlie's elimination. It was just her, Roxy, and Eggsy now.

Bex pushed the thought away, accepting Eggsy's high five.

"One less wanker to worry about," he grinned.

"Is it bad to hope he can't untie himself and actually gets hit by the train?" Bex asked.

"Yes," Harry said, looking at her sternly.

He suddenly glanced at his watch. His shoulders instantly tensed under his plaid blazer. He tapped something, his brow creasing.

"I've got to go," he said abruptly. "You lot head back up. A Kingsman car will come for you."

He left before Bex could even open her mouth, the door slamming shut behind him. She stared at the door in confusion. It wasn't like Harry to leave without an explanation. She looked over at Eggsy, who just gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Well, I'm still half-drunk and exhausted. I'm ready to go home," he said. "Coming with?"

Bex started after him, but Roxy grabbed her wrist.

"Give us one second," she said.

Eggsy raised an eyebrow, but turned back towards the door. He left it open, and Bex watched him walk away. He'd spoken as if nothing was wrong but his shoulders seemed uncharacteristically slumped, like something was weighing down upon him. She turned to Roxy.

"What's wrong?"

Roxy just looked at her face searchingly. Bex shifted, feeling Roxy's gaze burn across her skin. She looked away, but Roxy just kept looking at her.

"He likes you a lot, you know," Roxy finally said, in a voice so quiet Bex could barely hear it.

She swallowed hard, wiping her sweaty palms against the dark material of her jeans. She already knew, she'd already heard, but somehow hearing Roxy say made her heart pound painfully all over again.

"I know," she replied hoarsely.

"Do you feel the same?" Roxy asked, following Bex's gaze to the hallway.

Bex sucked in a breath, trying to calm her pounding pulse so Roxy wouldn't hear. She bit the inside of her cheek. Eggsy was still walking away from them, long out of earshot, but close enough that she could see his golden hair shining in the dim light.

"No."

She could barely see the shape of Eggsy as he faded into the darkness.

"I don't feel anything."

Bex tucked her hair behind her ears.

───────

a quick note:

actual footage of me coming out of my hiatus to publish this

also why do i just see roxy doing the little dance and singing the why the fuck you lyin' song when bex says she doesn't like eggsy