His Lover, The Mafia

Sylastian Bellington glanced at the clock again, watching the seconds tick away like the last grains of sand in an hourglass. There was only ten minutes left of the criminology lecture he had spent weeks preparing for, yet his students were already glazed over, phones peeking out from

under desks and keys tapping away.

Sylastian stood at the front of the lecture hall, animatedly discussing the intricacies of the criminal mind. He gestured enthusiastically, his eyes lit up with passion for the topic.

"Now, when we examine the psychological factors that contribute to criminal behavior," Sylastian said, his voice full of energy, "we see…?"

He paused, waiting for an answer.

None came. His students were looking down, some yawning, others checking their watches.

Ouch. Sylastian's excitement faltered. He continued, trying to engage them with questions. "What do you think motivates criminals to commit violent acts? Anyone?”

There was only silence.

He pressed on, trying to infuse more enthusiasm into his voice. "The criminal mind is a fascinating subject, with complex nuances that we're just beginning to understand. It's a field ripe for exploration, with countless avenues for research and insight..."

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Some students were already packing up their bags, ready to leave as soon as the lecture was over.

With a sigh, Sylastian snapped his laser pointer off and tossed it onto the desk, the little red dot fading on a slide of crime scene photos. "That's it for today. Please remember your papers on the Zodiac Killer are due next week. Dismissed."

As students shuffled out, a few shooting him grateful smiles, Sylastian slumped into his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

Why did he even bother? He knew that it wasn't your typical, run-of-the mill subject, but that's what fascinated him the most. It was human to stare into the shadows, to be drawn to what you knew was wrong.

But apparently kids these days had better things to think about. Memes, he supposed.

As the students filed out of the lecture hall, Sylastian collected his notes and remained behind for a moment, feeling deflated. He had poured his heart into the lecture, but it seemed like his students were just eager to go home.

One student, Jennifer, approached him tentatively. "Professor, I have a quick question," she said, her tone polite but distant.

Sylastian brightened at the opportunity for interaction. "Of course, Jennifer. What's your question?" he asked, eager to engage with a student.

"Will any of that be on the exam?”

Oh. His heart sank. "No, that was just for a greater overview of the—"

Jennifer brightened, immediately cheered. "Cool! Thanks."

"Sylastian, darling, don't be so hard on yourself." Rose said when he got back to the staffroom after class. Ms. Rose Devon, the terror of many a political science student, gave him a supportive smile. "You're brilliant, and you know it."

"Thanks for the ego boost, Rosie," Sylastian responded. He sighed. "But the truth is, I feel like I'm drowning here. The money's not great, the kids don't care, and I just... I don't know if this is what I really want."

"Have you thought about looking for another job? Or maybe writing a book?" Rose asked earnestly, perching herself on the edge of his desk.

"People love to read about gory crimes—more than they love to read about international statecraft, that's for sure."

"Who would want to read a book by me?" Sylastian rubbed his tired eyes. "And right now, I can barely grade my classwork."

"I guess it wouldn't solve all of your problems."

That sounded innocent enough, but he knew what it meant. Sylastian stopped rubbing his eyes to glare at her. Rose only gave him a cheeky smile.

"My non-existent love life is none of your business," Sylastian admitted, feeling a flush creep up his neck.

"But it might cheer you up! You're a good man, Sylastian. You're a catch—even if your field of study is super gross.”

Sylastian decided to let that slide. Rose had approximately eleven billion relatives, friends, and Facebook followers, and as far as Sylastian could tell, her favorite hobby was pairing them up like dolls. "It's been years since I've had anything close to a relationship. I think I've forgotten

how to date, Rosie."

"Sylastian," Rose sighed, taking his hand. "You can't find love if you don't put yourself out there. Maybe you should try online dating… or go to a gay bar?"

"Maybe," he shrugged half-heartedly, knowing full well he wouldn't follow through on either suggestion. "I appreciate your concern, Rosie, but right now, I need to focus on getting through each day."

"Alright, but promise me you'll think about it," Rose insisted, squeezing his hand before standing up. "Now, let's eat before you crash. You look like you could use the energy."

"Fine, fine," Sylastian agreed with a small smile, his mood lifting slightly in the presence of his friend. "I brought in something from that Thai place around the corner. I've been looking forward to it all day."

"There's nothing that a good Pad Thai can't fix!"

That turned out to be incorrect.

As Sylastian opened the fridge, his heart sank. His lunch was nowhere to be found.

Again.

He turned to glare at Arthur's empty seat.

When Sylastian had first joined the college, full of hope and excitement, he had proudly displayed a small rainbow flag on his desk. Everyone he'd spoken to throughout the hiring process had mentioned how inclusive the college was.

Well, they hadn't included Arthur Kingman in that. When Sylastian had returned to his office after his first class, he'd found his rainbow flag discarded in the trash bin. No-one had ever admitted to it, but with the way Arthur glared at Sebastian, he didn't need to.

And lately, no matter how well Sylastian marked his lunches, they'd started to go missing…

As far as Sylastian could tell, Arthur either hated Sylastian for being gay, or for getting the best desk in the staffroom. Either way, it was tiresome. One of those things couldn't be changed, and while the other could, like hell was Sylastian giving up the desk with the nice window view.

Rose saw Sylastian glaring at an empty shelf, and immediately knew what had happened. "Ooh, that horrible man!"

"It could be anyone. Maybe it's not him."

"He always uses up all the good markers and puts them back dry and useless. With morals like that, you know it's him. I'm going to slap him silly!"

"Aren't you an expert on diplomacy?"

"Diplomacy is all about speaking softly and carrying a big stick, and when I get my hands on him, I'm going to take that big stick and—"

Sylastian loudly shut the fridge. "It doesn't matter. You know he always makes sure there's no proof."

Sylastian let out a defeated sigh, running a hand through his messy hair.

He was too tired to confront anyone about it, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of anger and disappointment. It was a small thing, but it added to the mounting stress he was already facing. With a heavy heart, Sylastian sat down in his seat, resigned to the fact that he would have to go without lunch again. He wasn't a big spender, but his perpetually-breaking car had drained

his bank account.

Rose tugged him to his feet. "Lunch. My treat."

"I can't get you to pay again—"

"Too bad. Up you get! The place with the okay burgers probably isn't shut yet."

They made their way out of the cramped little staffroom, and out into the college grounds. As they passed the photogenic lawns, Rose kept up her optimistic chatter. "How about we brainstorm some ideas for you to earn extra cash? Or maybe find a way to put yourself out there and meet people?"

"Maybe," Sylastian mumbled. He glanced up, then flinched. "Actually, here's someone I'd rather not meet."

Speak of the devil. As they passed Arthur, sitting at one of the ground's tables, he gave them both a smile. "Devon, Bellington."

Sylastian silently looked at the empty box of takeaway Thai that was in front of Arthur. Arthur smiled. "There's a place around the corner—you simply have to try it."

Plastering a fake smile on his face, Sylastian dragged Rose away before she could re-enact some of Sylastian's more interesting class slides.

"Rosie, weren't you telling me about your cousin's new boyfriend? What happened with that?"

"Oh!" That got her attention. "I didn't tell you? I can't believe what he did—"

As they strolled along, Rose launched into a story about her cousin's romantic escapades. He couldn't help but chuckle at her animated retelling, feeling some of the tension leave his body, even if only for a moment.

The early winter evening began to set in, covering the campus in soft twilight at the end of the long, frustrating day.

"Come on, Sylastian, cheer up," Rose said as they left the college building, her heels clicking against the pavement. "I hate to see you so miserable."

"Having a whole class turn in essays written by ChatGPT would make anyone miserable."

"Then why not get it to grade them, and find yourself some free time?"

Rose gave him a playful nudge. "There's always a bright side. You just need to focus on the positives and surround yourself with people who genuinely care about you."

"Like you, Rosie?"

"Exactly like me," she beamed, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Now, set yourself up with an online dating profile. You never know, Mr. Right could be just a click away," Rose teased, her laughter ringing through the air.

"Alright, alright," Sylastian relented, laughing along with her. "I guess it's worth a shot."

"Trust me, Sylastian. Things will turn around for you soon," Rose assured him, her eyes sparkling with optimism.

"I believe you," lied Sylastian.

Nothing ever went right for Sylastian Bellington.

Sylastian waved goodbye to Rose as they parted ways by the college gates. He was in a slightly

better mood than before. Maybe it was the food that Rose had forced him to eat. Maybe it was just the approaching night, covering the city like a blanket.

He'd always loved the night.

As soon as he stepped through the gates, though, his mood soured again.

That bony figure in the distance walking towards him was unmistakably Arthur. "Ugh, again?" Sylastian muttered under his breath.

There were lots of plus sides of living in a college town: walkability, amenities, and the way that you got to spend time socializing with good coworkers. On the down side, when you hated someone, it was impossible to not bump into them all the freaking time.

Desperate to avoid any confrontation, Sylastian quickly turned off of the main street and into a dimly lit back alley, hoping to cut through the maze of twisty alleys to come out on the main street.

The darkness of