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But this isn’t elementary school.
This isn’t a deserted high school hallway.
This isn’t just some mean ass bully—a kid.
“You didn’t perform,” the man says softly, his voice curious, almost like that of a child, and yet there’s a melodic sort of sophistication to everything else about him that can’t be denied.
I give a little shake of my head, staring ahead at the corner of the room where the door remains sealed. In my pocket, my phone vibrates with an incoming message.
Mason.
Wetting my lips, I tell the man politely, “No, I don’t play.” Perhaps if I just entertain his desire for…small talk or whatever this is, he’ll let me go.
Is he even keeping you here?
I frown at the thought.
What the hell could he possibly do? He’s old—ish—and frail, given the cane and limp and all, and there are dozens of people standing just across the hall.
And yet…
I remain trapped, caught in his web.
“Ah. Pity that.” He sighs, dragging the cane back to his side. I missed earlier, somehow—the black gloves he wears. He squeezes the bronzed falcon head topper, resting his weight on it. “I can’t either.”
Our gazes meet and he dips his chin, a wistful sort of look passing over his eyes and tilting up his mouth.
“The body is capable of such marvel. A temple to be worshiped, truly. And yet it can also betray us.” He lifts his free hand, tracing a gloved finger over his temple. “Betray our minds, and all that we’d have ourselves do in this short, limited life if we could.”
Unease combined with something else—some emotion or familiarity I can’t quite pinpoint—crawls its spindly fingers up my spine, raising the little hairs off my neck.
He tilts his head, eyes drifting all around my face. “It’s quite…disheartening is it not? To be a prisoner inside one’s body.”
My lip quivers, but I quickly bite down on the inside of my cheek to hide it. Shrugging, I say, “Y-yeah, I guess.”
He glances down, and smiles to himself, like he’s pleased. “But you’re not. You didn’t let that stop you.”
My brow pulls in, and he nods to my hand.
“You’ve found a different medium to appease the beast.”
Everything in me stills, save for my gaze that flicks down, following his. And there, on the side of my hand, there are the ever-present smudges of graphite.
He watches me with an eerie sort of knowingness and intensity that I can’t bring myself to tear away from.
“Where one door leads to nowhere, another opens up to endless possibility.”
I swallow with an audible click. “Did you…find another door?”
He smiles, pleased. I’m not sure where the question came from, or what gave me the balls to ask, or why I’m…playing right into his hands.
“I did,” he says with a nod. “Most know me as a sort of…collector. But my true passion…” His blue eyes twinkle. “Well, that lies within conducting.”
“Conducting?”
His mouth twitches, and I catch that look again from earlier—that sharp sort of…wrongness. A darkness winking in and out that has my unease returning.
He brings a gloved hand up, turning it this way and that, eyes trailing the soft supple material clinging to his skin. “Hands are not the only things capable of marvels.” His eyes flash to mine, ensnaring me. “Sometimes it’s all about putting all the pieces together, and taking a backseat to watch it unfold. To create something bigger than ourselves.”
