Steven Grant is awakened one morning by the sound of his alarm blaring through his ears. With a groan, he reluctantly unties his foot and gets out of the bed, leaving a footprint in the sand ring on the floor. He checks to blue painters tape on the door, and upon realizing it hadn't been tampered with, he peels it off and rolls it into a ball. He tosses it into the rubbish bin and gets ready to start his day. He dawns a button up shirt, accompanied by jeans and a dark jacket. As he walks over to his fish tank, he picks up his phone and brings it to his ear.

" Ello, mum," He says as he pours the fish food into the tank, " Just getting ready for work. I just fed Gus, hey Gus," he waves at the one-finned fish, " I actually slept pretty good last night. I mean, my head is still killing me, but I felt... I felt pretty good," he holds the phone with his shoulder as he grabs his bags, " One of my neighbor's likes to play the piano. They're bloody good... whoever they are. I dunno Never met em," he walks out of his flat, locks the door, and heads to the elevator, " I didn't even know there was a 6th floor," he departs from the elevator and exits the building, and is met with the man selling rakes and brooms once more," Hey, mate," he walks down the street at a quick pace in order to catch the bus, " Anyways, I've gotta go. I'll call you again soon. Laters gators."

Meanwhile, Cleo lays in her bed, face flat against the pillow, quiet snores escaping her mouth. The time is inconsequential to her, for the only thing that matters is sleep.

That is until Ana decides to jump on the bed and sit down on her chest. Cleo stirs awake and barely opens her eyes to see a ball of black fur staring down at her. Cleo rolls her eyes, but stays still. The minute her eyes close, Ana begins to purr and rub her head against her cheek, and Cleo can't help but smile.

Cleo takes the hint and sits up in her bed. She grabs her phone on the bedside table, and notices she forgot to turn on her alarms last night. She sighs, and could've sworn that she remembered to set them. But, she shakes it off and goes about her morning. She goes through all the steps to get ready, breakfast, coffee, Ana, shower, makeup, clothes. She puts on her shoes and grabs her bag, then heads for the door. She locks it behind her and makes her way out of the building that appears abandoned from the outside. She gets into a cab, and the cab takes her all the way to work. She pays the fare and gets out of the cab. She walks down the rough ground in front of the museum, her boots splashing in a puddle and getting covered in the murky water. She enters the museum, and her eyes catch a glimpse of something that makes her turn her head. She sees one of the security guards on his phone watching what looks like otter videos. The man looks up and sees her watching him. His cheeks flush as he clears his throat and puts his phone back into his pocket. Cleo offers him a gentle and then goes on her way. She walks all the way to the back of the museum. She swipes her key card to unlock the doors, and when she opens the door to her own office, she sees someone sitting at her desk. The man looks up when he hears the door open, and smiles once he sees who it is.

" Cleo!" The man exclaims and stands up to hug her, while her arms remain at her sides, " How've you been, habibi?"

As the man pulls away, Cleo's eyes look up at his, her eyebrows furrowing as her eyes flicker back and forth between his.

" What are you doing here, Baahir?" She asks, her voice and face showing very little emotion.

But Baahir simply chuckles.

" Oh, come on, after all these years, that's the greeting I get?" He asks, almost offended.

" You still didn't answer my question," Cleo says.

" Neither did you," Baahir retorts.

" I've been okay."

" That's good."

" Now it's your turn."

" My turn for what."

" To answer my question."

" What's your question?"

" What are you doing here?" Cleo asks as she crosses her arms, already sick of his games.

A smirk creeps onto Baahir's lips at her tone. He's grown quite fond of it after all this time. And so, he lifts his arms up at his sides as if presenting a great prize.

" I'm here for you," He says.

Cleo scoffs.

" Right, like you were here for me in Luxor," She torts.

" Ah, come on. That silly little thing?" Baahir asks as he waves his hand dismissively, " Like I said, it was nothing personal. I got a better deal."

" It wasn't your deal to take," Cleo quips, " I was the one who found the amulet, and you stole all the credit."

" Did I?" He asks as he tilts his head.

" Seeing as I don't have a quarter of a million dollars... yes. You did," She says, her breath and mind remaining calm.

Baahir looks into her eyes, and his gaze appears to seep past her eyes and into her soul. Cleo is no stranger to this, but keeps the eye contact strong, signalling that she won't back down. And yet, Baahir smiles.

" Alright," He says, " Then, I guess you wouldn't be interested in a new dig site?"

She's got to admit it, she's interested, but she will never utter the words out-loud.

" Where?" Cleo asks.

" Somewhere outside Cairo."

" Somewhere? As in no exact location?"

" No yet."

As Cleo's eyes remain set on his, she's still unable to figure out his angle, which frustrates her to no end.

" Are you here because you want me to find a dig site for you, just to save yourself the hard work?" She asks, " Because if that's what it is... I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Baahir tsks and his eyebrows furrow.

" Is that really what you think of me?" He asks as he puts his hand up to his chest," No, of course not. I would never do that to you," he takes a step closer to her, eyes still locked, " What if I told you that you could be a part of the greatest dig in all of our history? To make a mark on our world in a way nobody else could?"

As he steps closer, Cleo involuntarily backs up until her back is pressed against a wall, and feels her heart rate quicken from under his gaze.

" I'd say your full of shit," Cleo says, still projecting an illusion of confidence.

" You could be a part of something truly special... and you are exactly the person I need. I need somebody with experience in the vast Egyptian dessert, which is you. I need somebody who has no fear in uncharted territory, which is you. I need somebody who truly understands and believes in the mythology of our home land, which is... you," Baahir says, his face now inches away from hers, his body so close she can feel the heat radiating off of him. Eyes still locked, he brings his hands up to the sides of her face and gently holds her as he whispers, " I can't do this without you, habibi."

Cleo's heart is now beating frantically as her eyes stay locked on the man in front of her, the man she's known for years, but the man who sold her out without hesitation. As tempting as his offer seems, Cleo knows his tactics. Cleo knows how he manipulates people into doing his biding, and she won't have it.

However, that doesn't mean she won't play along and sell it.

Her eyes flicker back and forth as her lashes flutter, giving the appearance of innocence, and to top it off, she melts under his touch as the rough pad of his thumb brushes against the soft skin of her cheek.

" I-I'll think about it," She stutters.

And Baahir lets out a shit eating grin.

" Fatat jayida (Good girl)" He whispers, then leans in to plant a kiss on her cheek, " I look forward to hear from you, Cleopatra."

And there it is again. Her full name. The name she doesn't go by, despite being her legal name.

Baahir leaves her office, and she's left there all by herself. She finds the thoughts telling her to go home and sleep all too tempting, but she knows she can't. She tells herself that she has work to do,  but when she looks at her desk, she realizes its empty. All of the files are gone. All of her artifacts have already been processed, cleaned, and put out on display. She bites the inside of her cheek, but refusing to let her day go to waste, she leaves her office to go and explore the museum exhibits that she's seen so many times, she could practically visualize the entire museum with knowledge of every piece all in her head.

As her eyes scan over the standing sarcophagus on display behind panes of glass, she hears one of the museum employees getting chewed out in the middle of the museum.

" I swear to whatever God you're nattering on about, Stevie, I don't bloody care if you don't think the toys are accurate. They're just toys!" The woman exclaims, " Now shut it, and get back to work unless you wanna be on inventory again."

Cleo can't help but frown at the words. She turns her head to see the museum employee walking out of the gift shop, so she decides to step in.

" Excuse me," Cleo says to catch the woman's attention," I don't think the way you were talking to that employee was exactly appropriate for the work place... or just... at all."

And the blonde woman narrows her eyes at her.

" Who might you be?" She asks as she obnoxiously chews on her gum.

" I'm Cleo. I'm an archeologist working for the museum," Cleo responds, then looks down at the woman's name tag.

" Cleo Hassan, eh?" Donna asks, " Oh, you one of the biggins, ain't cha?" she smiles as her gum gets popped in between her teeth, " Well, I happen to know that your contract won't be renewed unless you happen to find another dig site or the bloody holy grail... so it doesn't seem like your opinion exactly matters around here, yeah?"

Cleo forces herself to take a deep breath and remain professional.

" Yes, while that may be true, I do not appreciate the way you talk to your employees," She says, " So, I would recommend that you behave in a professional manner in the work place, unless you'd like to have a chat with HR."

Donna purses her lips and glares at Cleo and she walks away and out the museum doors.

And little did either of them know, but the man being reprimanded heard the entire conversation, all the way from the gift shop.

" Thank you," He whispers, fully knowing the woman wouldn't be able to hear him.

Steven goes about his day, all the way up until it's time for him to leave. He exits the museum and heads to the park to visit a friend painted in gold to tell the story of his day.

" Could you believe that? Somebody actually told Donna off," Steven laughs from his spot on the park bench, " I mean, I wish I would've done it. Probably would've shit myself, but I would've done it," he looks down at his lap and sighs, " Oh! Did I tell you about the neighbor?" he asks excitedly, " Oh, bloody hell. So, there's a flat above mine. I know, crazy, right? And the person living up there has a big, huge piano, yeah? Oh my g-- mate, they play so beautifully," the smile on his face gets so big that his cheeks start to hurt," I-I don't know who it is... I'd love to meet em, though... tell them I like they're music. It helps me sleep at night... nah, nah... that's a bit weird, init?"

The gold man remains silent for the entire conservation, but Steven doesn't mind. He rambles on, telling his friend his stories, but then glances down at his watch and realizes he should probably go home. He scurries through the streets of London to make his way back to his flat. He's quick to feed Gus and get into his pajamas. He places the tape on the door and the restraint on his foot, and excitedly waits in bed for the beautiful music to start playing.

He twiddles with his thumbs on his chest, still waiting for the music.

After a few minutes, his mind begins to wonder. Wonder if there is no flat above him, no music playing from the floors above, and no upstairs neighbor. Perhaps it was all a dream.

His thoughts soon fade as the music from upstairs graces his ears and sends a smile to his lips.

https://youtu.be/Tt8uxIYZGuM

The music dances inside his head and creates a calming sensation and environment, one where he forgets to be fearful of sleep, but rather embraces it. As the sound slumber consumes his mind, the dark, unforgiving reality of being awake and in control of the body hits Marc.

Marc stays in bed for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He lets the music dance around in his mind, if only for a few moments, then sits up in his bed, only one name on his mind.

Cleo Hassan.

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