Chapter Seven - Where Two Worlds Meet

Several weeks had passed since Noah accepted Elliott’s offer.

Most of his nights were now spent in the high-rise, curled up on the tangled silk sheets of Elliott’s bed. The arrangement had been purely transactional; arrive by 7:30, leave by 10:00pm. No sleepovers or early morning coffee. No familiarity in public spaces. No emotional connection. Just service and payment. These were Elliott’s rules and Noah had kept them all, until…

One night, he slept off and woke up the next day to Elliott brewing coffee for him. Not angry at him or eager to throw him out. Elliott was relaxed. A little bit too relaxed that morning that after coffee, he made breakfast. They ate and chatted a bit before Noah left. From that day, the boundary they’d live by began to dissolve.

Elliott cooked him dinner occasionally. They argued about books, philosophy. Sometimes they sat on opposite ends of the couch reading in silence, the silence between them was oddly comfortable. They bonded over their shared love for classical music. Yet the tension never disappeared. Especially during the day when Elliott was Noah’s professor.

Noah sat at his usual spot (the second row of the lecture hall), his pen hovering over a notebook that was mostly filled with doodles. Bena was right beside him. Her eyes lingered on him. There was something different about him that she was trying to point out.

Noah shifted on his chair. “Could you please stop?” He said with a low voice.

“I would if I could.” Her eyes were still fixed on him.

Across the room, Professor Elliott stood at the front of the class, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows as he wrote across the board.

“Role of Emotions in Moral Agency,” he read out loud.

He paced gently.

“Most people think morality is about rules; what you should do and what you shouldn’t do. But rules alone do not make a person moral. A person becomes moral when they care about the impact of their actions on others.”

He stopped right in the center of the stage and looked into the audience. His eyes met with Noah's. For a moment, they were locked in a world of their own; their eyes pulling each other in like gravity.

“I know what it is!” Bena whispered into Noah's ear.

Noah’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“It’s the sweater… And the watch… And the footwear… In fact, it’s everything. You look like you were dipped in money.”

“What? That’s not true. These are just everyday dressings.”

“Cahmere sweater? Rolex? For a student who weeks ago was struggling to come up with money for his tuition.”

“Shush!” Sebastian's voice from behind interrupted them.

“You shush!” Bena fired back at him.

She leaned into Noah. “Look, I’m happy for you as long as it’s a legal job.”

Noah gives in.

“Fine. I got a better job. But the Rolex, it was a gift.”

Bena’s expression brightened instantly. “From who?”

Noah struggled to answer. He couldn’t tell her the truth because the Rolex was from Elliott. One morning, after their coffee, as he packed up to go, he came across the watch and expressed admiration and his longing to have one. Right there, Elliott had asked him to take it.

Bena nudged him, waiting impatiently for his response.

Suddenly, the classroom door at the front of the hall creaked open. The interruption was subtle but noticeable.Noah released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, grateful for the interruption until Damien stepped into the doorway. Noah's heart dropped into his stomach.

Damien wore dark jeans, a black jacket. His eyes scan the room. Noah slid down his seat and put his hand over his face.

Elliott paused mid-sentence.

“Yes?”

Damien smiled politely.

“Sorry to interrupt.” His eyes moved across the classroom slowly. “I’m looking for Noah.”

Every head turned. Noah sat straight.

“What is this about? Elliott asked Damien.

Before Damien could answer, Noah spruing out of the chair. “I will talk privately.”

After those words, came a chilling air on Elliott. He went perfectly still, his eyes snagging on Noah with a look of sharpened scrutiny and a twinkle of jealousy.

Elliott nodded. ‘Of course.” His words were barely audible.

Noah’s legs felt like lead as he walked down the stairs. He didn’t look at Bena or the seventy other students staring at him. As he walked the podium, he caught the briefest glimpse of Elliott’s face. He wished he hadn’t looked. That look will hunt him for the rest of the day until he is able to face him at night and explain.

Damien’s eyes doubled back to Elliott. He was still mentally sifting through where he had seen him before. Then Elliott turned to him again and the realization hit Damien just a heartbeat before Noah reached his side.

Elliott’s gaze never left them until they walked out into the hallway and the door closed behind them.

Outside in the hallway, the air felt thin.

“What are you doing here?” Noah hissed.

Damien reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, tapping it against Noah’s chest. "You left your back-pay in the safe. And your 'performance bonus.' I don't like keeping debt on my books."

Noah took the envelope reluctantly. "Really? You had to bring it to my school?"

“You were not answering my calls or messages. And never at home.”

“You could have left it with my building manager.”

“Plus I wanted to see for myself how you were doing.”

Noah wavered, his gaze dropping for a second before his jaw set in a hard line. He didn't buy the concern; he could already hear the 'I told you so' simmering under Damien's breath.

“You look good.” Damien weighed him from head to toe with a slow, clinical sweep. “Such a nice upgrade from the club.”

Noah’s expression softened for a brief, vulnerable second.

"I'm sorry," Noah said, his voice low. "I know I promised to come by once in a while. It just hasn’t been easy and I rarely have time plus school…"

“I understand. It can’t be easy for anyone fucking his professor.” Damien stared him dead in the eyes.

Noah froze.

“I’m sorry… What? How…” Noah is lost for words.

“Oh please, I remember all my clients, especially the ones that book private sessions and then snatch my star dancer from me.”

“Please you can’t tell anyone.”

“Calm down, I don’t tattle. But I really hope it doesn’t end badly for you.”

Damien turned and walked away, leaving Noah standing in the hall with an envelope full of cash and a secret that was no longer a secret.