Steven's day at work, for possibly the first time, is somewhat enjoyable. His spirits are lifted just knowing that he actually has a date. He has a date. Someone actually likes him enough to go out with him. It sends butterflies to his stomach and makes him smile all day. So much that his cheeks grow sore. It's on his mind all day. He deals with customers happily, but he's not entirely present with them. His mind ponders about his upcoming date and mentally plans for what he should do.

But, of course, Donna has other plans. She sees how happy he is out front, then decides to drag him to the back for inventory. Steven complies with her orders and follows her with ease. They're surrounded by open boxes that are either half full or completely empty and stacks of paperwork lying about, along with countless posters that are yet to be hung up.

Donna uses her scanner to scan the barcodes for products, then aimlessly tells Steven to hand her another box of hippo plushies.

" Taweret. The hippo, Goddess Taweret," He comments as he picks up the box and places it on the white table, " Oh, Donna, that reminds me. When I was coming in this morning, I saw the banners outside."

" And that's what made you late for work again, was it?" Donna taunts as she moves the box to another table.

" No, sorry about that," Steven says as he moves over to grab another box and places it next to her.

" Third time this week you've shuffled in like a lazy sod," She continues with her remark, despite it being wildly inappropriate for the work place.

" I know," He mumbles.

" That's why you'll be on inventory this week. Well done," Donna says, excited to dish out a punishment to her least favorite employee.

Steven sighs, but he doesn't argue.

" All right. Aye, aye, Captain," He mock salutes, deeply wishing that Cleo was present and able to tell Donna off again, or at least that he had her confidence and ability to stand up.

But instead, Steven takes it. He takes the cruel and unusual remarks from his boss. He avoids confrontation at all costs, especially when doing so could make a bad situation worse.

" I wanted to tell you that the banners and the posters of the Ennead," Steven says, quickly changing the subject as he walks over to the poster that leans against a stack of boxes.

" The what?" Donna asks.

" The Ennead. You know, like, the super group of Egyptian gods? You got Horus, Osiris, Tefnut..."

" Stop, please. If this is some weird audition to tour guide here, the answer's still no."

" No, what I'm trying... That's actually crushing to hear," He says with a frown, but still continues to get his point across," But, um, what I'm trying to point out... I'm not trying to slag off marketing, but there's been a major blunder because they've got seven gods here, and the Ennead has nine."

" I fired two of 'em for being late. Listen, if you don't stop natterin' at me, I swear I'll shove you in a sarcophagus. You can tell the bloody pharoh in there what's wrong with them and all. Go on."

Steven sadly puts the poster down, and as he goes to exit the room, he accidentally knocks over some boxes. He tries his best to fix it, but Donna just berates him and tells him to leave.

He glumly moves back to his spot at the gift shop, his mood damped by his boss, as per usual. He rings up customers like normal, but his face has lost his smile, that is until a little girl comes up to the register with a little figurine of the Queen Cleopatra. It makes Steven's eyes light up and brings the smile back to his lips. Once the little girl leaves and goes back to her father, Steven leaves the counter to grab one of the figurine's for himself. He rings himself up and uses him employee discount, and then places the figurine into his bag for later.

His shift comes to an end as the night sky comes out to play. He makes sure all of the duties Donna assigned to him are all taken care of before he even thinks about leaving. He walks to the exit and past security where one of the janitors is mopping the floors.

" Goodnight, J.B." Steven waves.

" Night, Scotty," The security guard says, his phone in his hands as he leans over his desk.

" It's Steven... with a V."

Instead of his flat, Steven makes his way to one of the fountains in London and grabs himself a sandwich from a nearby shop. One of the few people he likes to talk to performs at the fountain, and he finds it quite silly that the person he shares his stories with never talks back to him.

" Honestly, it's like my body wants to get up and wander about, you know, like it has to get the 10,000 steps in. You know? And I don't even know about it until I wake up wherever. That's why I tried to stay awake at night... until Cleo came along," Steven says with a mouthful of bread, " She helps... she really helps... but there's some nights where she doesn't play the piano. Maybe she's busy, but... but on those nights I stay awake. What do you think?" he pauses, even though he knows the man painted in gold will not respond, " Nah, you're right. I mean, I guess there are stranger things that people do, but... No? Well, I think it's a bit... Oh, I'm sorry," he pulls a snack out of his bag and places it down next to the man, " Extra pralines for the man himself. So, Cleo, the girl I was telling you about... we're going on a date tomorrow."

A young couple comes up to them, interrupting Steven mid conversation. They ask for him to take their picture, and he obliges. He stands up and grabs the phone, but continues to speak.

" Yeah, so, we're going on a date. I didn't even ask her. I don't know how it happened. One, two, three. There you are, cheers," He snaps the picture and hands the phone back to them, " Don't forget to tip," the couple throws a few dollars into the gold hat as Steven sits back down, " Anyway, if I am gonna have a girlfriend... at some point... I dunno if that's what Cleo would want. But, obviously can't have ankle restraints on my bed, can I? That's like the definition of a red flag, isn't it? You know what I mean, yeah? Yeah... you know what I mean. Gotta figure something out," he takes another bite of his sandwich as he stares off into the distance, " Alright, I better jog on. Nice catching up," he gathers his things as he stands up, " I will see you on the flip flop."

Steven places some change into the man's hat before he walks off and through a large puddle in the middle of the concrete path. He makes his way back to the building and buzzes himself in, then enters the lift. He enters his flat and rids himself of his bag and coat. His body is exhausted, but his mind is wide awake. It can't stop thinking about Cleo.

Cleo.

His head tilts as his mind recalls one special detail. He looks down at his watch to check the time, and then his head goes up to look at the ceiling as he realizes that there's no music playing. A frown dawns his lips as he sighs. Another sleepless night it is.

A part of him wants to call or to head up to her door, but he wants to respect her privacy. She doesn't owe him a song. She doesn't owe him anything.

Steven grabs a bowl of sand and fills in the gap where his foot made an impression earlier this morning. He grabs the roll of blue painters tape and slides it along the crack in the door. He locks the multiple locks that hang on his door and door frame, convincing himself that he can never be too careful. He turns on a podcast he's grown rather fond of as he fiddles with a rubik's cube in his bed.

" Hello! And welcome to Staying Awake. Let's start with trying to solve a puzzle. Solving puzzles is a great way to keep your mind awake. Bored with puzzles? Try a book."

Steven combs through his countless books on Egyptian Mythology with his glasses hanging from his nose, trying to find something, trying to find anything that will keep him awake.

" Reading can keep your mind alert and focused. Imagine being in the story you're reading. Is there an exciting chapter you'd like to be a part of?"

His eyes read over the chapter of the Ennead, reading he being worshipped in silence.

" Remember, you'll need about five hours to keep your natural self."

He continues to flip through the papers, reading more and more and more as the podcast replays.

" Hello! And welcome to Staying Awake. Let's start with trying to solve a puzzle. Solving puzzles is a great way to keep your mind awake. Bored with puzzles? Try a book."

Steven lies in bed and throws the cube up in the air and catches it with his hands, the podcast soon warping in his ears after having listened to it for so long. It becomes jumbled and incoherent. He continues to throw the cube as the sounds grow louder and louder and louder as if coming from multiple people in all directions. He fiddles with the cube before he throws it up in the air before his consciousness fades to black.

Marc takes control of the body. He comes front and center and throws the cube to the side. He's quick to get dressed, his mind focusing solely on his mission given to him by the God. Marc removes the tape from the door and unlocks the various locks and opens the door. He expects to see an empty hallway, but ends up coming face to face with Cleo. Her ponytail is even messier than this morning, her eyes appear sunken and her cheeks are stained with tears. Her jaw trembles and her nose is red and inflamed. Marc freezes. His body doesn't move, it doesn't react. She's here standing in front of him, and he can't do anything. He can't reveal who he is, because it's not him that she came to see.

It's Steven.

And as Cleo steps forward and wraps her arms around his torso to rest her head on his chest, that's who she thinks she's hugging.

It sends a bullet to Marc's chest, knowing that this hug isn't even meant for him. It's meant for someone else entirely, but that doesn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her body and embracing her. It's obvious she's struggling, and it's obvious she needs help. He feels her back rise up and go back down with every breath. No words leave her mouth, allowing them to stand there in silence. Marc can't even remember the last time he's been this close with another person, and he doesn't take it for granted. He inhales deeply and her Chanel perfume fills his nose. The same scent Steven had the pleasure of smelling before, but this is the first time Marc gets to experience it for himself. His eyes go up to the ceiling as he tries to maintain his composure and keep his feeling from surfacing.

" I think I'm going crazy," Cleo whispers into his chest, her eyes wide open and staring off into the distance, " It feels like... like an emptiness inside me is trying to be filled. Like there's a fire being lit inside me... and it hurts. It hurts so much... and the voices... I-I thought it was the curse... but I think it might be my head. Maybe... maybe I have a disorder. I just... I-I don't know what to do," her grip on him tightens.

And even though she spills her heart and soul out to him, Marc remains silent. He knows he can't do a British accent to save his life, so he remains silent. He finds it within himself to soothingly rub her back. It's the best he can do. Cleo lifts her head from his chest and tilts it upwards to be able to look him in the eyes. Marc's breath gets caught in his throat from that one, simple action. He sees so much pain in her eyes, and he wants to badly to make it all go away. He wants to help her fight her demons, even though he still lives with his. Cleo's eyes flicker between his right and his left. In any other state, she would be able to see the man behind the brown eyes and conclude that it's not Steven, but in her current state, she's practically blind to it. Unable to think clearly, she just accepts it. And here, in his arms, she feels an ounce of peace. Physical contact is known to help in certain mental health situations, but it is far from a cure.

" She is a fascinating one," The God's voice booms through the hall as he stands behind her, " Perhaps she could serve as your replacement if you continue to disobey me."

Cleo's eyes tear away from his as her head slowly turns around. They scan over the area where Khonshu stands, but she is unable to see him, despite currently looking him in the eyes. She could've sworn she heard a voice, but then again, she's heard many voices over the past few days.

" I'm sorry," She whispers as she pulls away from him, which only makes Marc want to desperately pull her back into his arms, " I-I should go," she sniffs, and then looks him in the eyes, drawing Marc in without even doing anything, his body aching for her touch, " Goodnight, Steven."

A blade going directly through his heart would've been preferred. The gutwrenching feeling hits Marc like a bullet train as Cleo disappears into the staircase to go back to her home. Marc lowers his head to the ground, trying oh so hard to stop himself from going up there.

" She is no ordinary human," Khonshu observes as he leans against the wall, " I can only imagine how powerful she would be once I bless her with my armor and healing abilities."

" You stay away from her," Marc sneers, lifting his head up as his voice cracks just the slightest, which only makes the God chuckle.

" Then let's leave this place."

" Where to now?"

The God guides his Avatar out of the building, out of the city, and out of the country, all while Cleo remains in her flat.

She tries so hard to keep herself together. She tries to remember all the tactics she was taught. She steps over the papers scattered on the floor to make herself a cup of tea. She hopes it will help soothe her nerves. She sends the cup to her lips and the herbal beverage drops down her throat and into her stomach, but it only adds gasoline to the wild fire inside her.

" Cleopatra!"

The voice shouts, causing her hands to grip the mug a little bit too tightly, causing it to burst into pieces and fall onto the floor. Cleo whips around to look at her surroundings, but finds it to be empty. She's the only one in the flat, but her darkened skin forms goosebumps as if somebody is right beside her. She attempts to shake it off and walk into her bedroom, her feet scattering the papers even more. She quickly grabs a journal from her bedside table along with a pen. She scatters through the pages, trying to find an empty one, but finds page after page covered with the Eye of Horus.

" Cleopatra..."

The voice grows more impatient, but she still ignores it.

" I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy," She whispers to herself, now on her hands and knees as she digs through the dozens of papers on the floor, searching for what she suspects is causing this.

" Cleopatra Sa'd Hassan!"

The voice scolds her, booming like thunder during a storm. Cleo finds the golden amulet on the floor and rushes to place it in her hands. Gold paints over her eyes once more, and she sees the copy cat of herself in an orange world covered in sand.

" I see you inherited my stubbornness as well," The queen sighs.

Cleo remains silent, her breathing labored as her mind tries to wrap around quite literally everything.

" All that knowledge in your head and you still don't know?" The queen narrows her eyes.

" Know what?" Cleo pleads.

" That emptiness inside you. That feeling of being incomplete that's been with you since you were a child. Your depression and inability to form meaningful connections... it's not your fault," The queen answers, " It's your soul."

" My soul?" Cleo repeats, " My soul?" a laugh escapes her lips as if this is all one big practical joke, " Dear god, I am crazy."

" You are many things, my darling... but crazy is not one of them."

" I'm hallucinating that the Cleopatra looks exactly like me... that sounds crazy to me."

" And why do you think that is?" The queen challenges, " Why do you think we share the same face and the same name?"

" Because my parents were obsessed with Ancient Egypt?" Cleo suggests.

" And what happened as a result?" The queen questions, " Do you think it's just a coincidence we're so similar?"

" Similarities between people isn't uncommon. It's entirely possible there's dozens of people in the world who are exactly like me."

" Yes... but you do not share a soul."

Cleo gazes at the woman in front of her as if she were the crazy one. Having been a person of logic rather than a person of faith, her brain simply rejects this information.

The queen sighs once more.

" Do I truly need to spell it out for you, child?" The queen asks as she walks through the tan sand with feet bare until she's inches away from Cleo, their identical eyes staring back at one another, " You have my soul, Cleopatra."

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