Memories of a Life That Never Happened

Chapter 33 - The Bloodhound

Bobbing his head to the upbeat music, Alan scanned the room for any sign of Theo. It took effort to maneuver through the rippling crowd and he used a fisted hand to cut through the throng. Sweaty guests fooled themselves into thinking they sounded just like Shakira while sounding closer to a flock of parrots. 

Elbowing at random, he shouted hollow excuses when someone complained. Jumping up and down, arms in the air, Alan spotted Bianca. He was half-surprised to find Abel dancing with her. Knees bent and foreheads tilted down, a hair's breadth kept them from touching each other.  

"All right!" Alan exclaimed to no one in particular. Those two seemed to be enjoying each other, which meant the road was clear for Theo. During his relentless quest on the dance floor, Alan had accounted for everyone who shared the table with him, save for Theo and Mica. 

He loitered there long enough to see Bianca and Abel get cozier with one another. They formed a stunning couple and their moves were effortlessly complementary. Energy flowed so naturally between them that one might think they went back many years. It was also very sensual to watch.  

With the foolproof charm of a Latin conqueror, Abel skimmed his hands on both sides of Bianca's body, swinging down low and up again. Her moan got lost between tunes as skillful fingertips brushed her bare thighs from her knee up to the rim of her dress. A glance into Abel's fiery eyes revealed that he meant business. 

The space between their lips was slimmer than her stiletto heels. Their breathing blending, Bianca grabbed Abel's neck with both hands. Mouths crashed in a shameless, eyebrow-raising kiss. Around them, women who still counted on a chance to sink their teeth into that delectable dish sneered.  

Inspired by them and short of reasons to worry with Theo, Alan switched targets. It was now time to look for Virginie.  

On the edge of the dance floor, Alan caught sight of his hosts. Pleased, he noticed that Joana and the Swiss siblings had joined them. Since Nicholas insisted relentlessly, Joana accepted his invitation to hobnob with his family. If she was there, Nick was sure not to stray. 

The Chusters and friends kept near the bleachers, where the concept of personal space still existed. Embarrassingly off the pace, Virginie moved listlessly among the other six. With arms limp beside her body, she watched her own two feet as they taped right and left, left and right. Her choreography was so stiff that septuagenarians could easily put her to shame.  

Yet, Virginie's inaptitude found a soft spot in Alan's heart. More than that, it curtseyed to the knight in shining armor he always wished to be. From that moment forward, it became unthinkable to Alan to be any place but there.  

As Alan rehearsed a failsafe opening line about Virginie's beautiful eyes, Nicholas grabbed his shoulder. Blood drained from his face and his heart almost leapt from his mouth.  

"Did I startle you, Alan?" Nicholas' eyes wrinkled in amusement as he gauged the boy's reaction. "I apologize for that. Have you seen Theo?"  

Alan huffed out a loud breath, trying to expel the adrenaline with it.  

"Lucky for you, Sir, I'm young and healthy." He beat a fist to his own chest as if he had choked. "You could have scared the life out of me."  

"Well?" Nickolas pressed. 

"Oh, Theo. Sure, I've seen him. He stepped outside for some fresh air."  

It was a known fact that Alan staggered when he lied, so Nicholas believed him. But the truth was that Alan had searched the entire party with no success. So wherever Theo was, outside was a true, satisfactory answer.  

Nevertheless, Nicholas pressed for a more elaborate response. 

"Is he ok, Alan? Where did he go?"  

"He's all right. He said it was too loud and crowded. I'll go get him if you want."  

Nicholas tapped twice on Alan's shoulder blades and nodded.  

"You do that, please. We'll be here waiting."  

"No worries!" Winking, Alan gave Nicholas a soft punch in the upper arm. "I'll be right back with him." 

As soon as he put his back to Nicholas, Alan rubbed the sides of his face.  

"Theo, Theo. Where the hell did you go?" he wondered aloud.  

Since most people were on the dance floor, Alan decided to go looking in the two other domes. At the dining room, the tables had been reset. The faintest smell of coffee filled the air and instead of crystal flutes and goblets, now there were porcelain teacups and bowls.  

Alan screened the tables, failing to see anything similar to his friend's golden locks. To the left, a mother breastfeeding her newborn had him looking the other way. On the other side, a girl laid her head on the cold tabletop while a boy fanned her with a napkin. Nearby, a number of older commensals chatted lively between sips of coffee and tea.  

Before long, Alan stepped in the last room. The lounge area was even less populated. The foxy girl on the coatroom was propping her head on her fists, bored as a captive animal. A few men were at the bar and on the futons, a couple of mothers chatted quietly, watching over the small children sleeping on their laps. 

Unless Theo and Mica had found great place to hide, they were gone. Alan was about to step outside when a last minute idea popped in his head. He went back to the dance floor and, keeping a safe distance from Nicholas, threaded the crowd toward the stands.  

The room was still dim for the show's benefit. Under the bleachers, it was even darker. No decent person could have a good reason to sneak under there during the show. Still, seduction is a war where honest intentions are often overrated.  

As expected, as Alan plunged in the shadows, he saw he was not alone. Couples brought together by night and presumably cut apart by morning were kissing and fondling. Alan kept his eyes wide open for signs of his friend.  

Near one of the pillars closest to the exit, two figures captured his attention. They were quite far and Alan could neither hear nor recognize them. Unlike the others, this couple seemed to be having a discussion.  

As Alan advanced toward them, their words seemed to smother under the sound of his own heartbeat. Coming as close as possible without exposing himself, Alan leaned against one of the wooden beams. It failed to conceal his entire body, but nothing wider was available. Hugging the pillar, he angled his head to spy.  

The girl had her back to him. She was slim and tall and, as she moved, her white tutu glowed faintly in the darkness. She also blocked Alan's view of the man who she was addressing. While he barely moved, she gesticulated wildly for both of them. At one point, she crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg. With that, Alan noticed the man had something in his hand.  

To get a better look, Alan bent his body until his torso was almost at a right angle with the pillar. He glimpsed a plain, white cotton bag and then, to his despair, Alan lost his balance. He fell to the ground with a thump too loud to go unnoticed.  

Lying flat on the floor, he watched both man and woman jerk their heads in his direction. He recognized the woman straightaway. It was that ballerina, the white peacock. Quicker than a shooting star, she scurried in the opposite direction behind the man, whose face remained a mystery. 

With his self-pride hurting more than his bottoms, Alan decided it was best not to mention this incident whatsoever. He was not snooping around after all. He was looking for Theo and that was precisely what he got back to doing.