Page 57 of Her Last Audition


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Sighing, I pick up my now cold coffee cup and chug it down. Atlas is nowhere to be seen so I may as well figure out what I can do around this place until he’ll let me go home.

Let me go home. I mentally scoff at that.

What a mess.

* * *

I stepout of the break room and see no one, though the room is large enough I can’t see the entire thing from where I am. I take a moment to look around and get a better feel for where I am.

It’s some kind of warehouse, or was originally, and the actual bones of the thing seem to be solid concrete. It rises two stories and the metal staircase to my left seems to be the only way to get up to the second level, which appears to be mostly a ring of scaffolding circling the lower level. In the corner of the upper level, I do see two rooms with closed doors, but that seems to be all.

Below is the massive room in the middle which is bare in the centre, though last night I noticed some of the side rooms have varying pieces of furniture in them. A few worn booths line some of the walls.

No one seems to be around, though Atlas did mention he had additional people keeping an eye on things.

Unsure of what to do, I start making my way back to the small room I was brought to the night before. I don’t know what it was originally for, but there’s a comfortable blow-up mattress and a small bathroom and that’s enough for me.Maybe I can take a nap or something, I think as I go around the edge of the room. For some reason, it feels weird to walk through the empty middle.

“Hey, uhh, Kinsey,” a male voice calls from behind me and I turn to see a man I haven’t met, but noticed around. He’s giant and reminds me of Atlas, but without hair and the burns.

“I’m Phil, I work for Atlas.”

My teeth clench a touch tighter but I do give him a small smile. I recall now, Atlas mentioned Phil was the one who got my room ready.

“Nice to meet you, and thank you for getting a place for me to sleep,” I reply politely.

Phil gives me a short nod. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

I shrug. “It’s fine, really. Thank you.” Silence descends between us and I shift uncomfortably. “Well, umm, I’m just going to go to my room for a bit.”

I start to walk away.

“Actually I needed to ask you something,” Phil says, and I turn back.

“Atlas mentioned you’d be needing some clothes, so I wanted to know what your sizes and stuff are, what you like. I’ll be getting some things together today so…”

A loud, booming knock interrupts him and Phil’s brow knits together, making his scruffy eyebrows bunch together.

My eyes widen when he pulls a gun out of a holster I didn’t notice at his side, and turns to me.

“Get back to your—”

The main door across the room creaks open and a voice calls down, “Phil?”

“Fuck,” Phil curses, bringing his gun down, and walks across the room. I hesitate only a second before following him. Nothing more interesting to do, and I want to know more about this place.

Phil walks up to the door where there’s a man poking his head in, a frown on his face. He steps inside and closes the door behind him, moving up to Phil.

“There’s two people outside; they need A,” the man mutters to Phil. “Then they asked for you when I said he wasn’t around.”

“Get back to your room,” Phil says, still clutching his pistol. Despite my curiosity, I nod and start to turn as he steps forward to open the door. I hear the low murmur of voices but can’t hear what’s being said and slow my steps.

“Where is he?” a female voice demands and I turn around again to see a woman walk right by Phil and the guard and into the room, looking around. A man comes in behind her and I vaguely note Phil talking frantically with him, clearly none too happy with the interruption.

The woman seems to ignore this. Stepping into the centre of the room, she taps her foot and keeps glancing around until her eyes land on me. She has long, dark hair and a tan I would die to have. Though she’s wearing jeans and a simple black blouse, the clothes hug her skin, and with the fierce expression and platform shoes, she looks like she stepped out of a magazine.

“Who is she?” the woman barks at Phil, taking long strides toward me until she’s a few feet away. There’s a frown on her face and she looks me over, and I notice her mouth tightens as she does so. “Who are you?”

The other man comes up behind her, placing a hand on her back.

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