House of Anubis: House of Mistakes

Part XI

A good actress always warmed up her voice. That was another lesson Mr. Winkler had made sure to drive home in his class: projection and diction. Willow remembered how Amber—her glorious idol—used to stand on the opposite end of the lounge to Nina and Fabian and make loud, deliberate consonant sounds while Nina would yell at her to be louder while trying to stifle her laughter.

While Amber had always been her role model, Nina had been a good listener and friend. Willow rather missed her. Nina's aura had been a pretty gold with mottled purple, and she always managed to lend an ear or help Willow out with anything she needed. In fact, Nina was the one who taught her the very vocal exercise she was doing now.

"Mooo maaaa meeeee moooooo—"

"CUT!" Robsin interrupted sharply, slamming his palm down hard on the small wooden table by Denby's shelf. "It's impossible," he continued as he circled around behind her, and Willow tried not to show how disappointed she was that this famous actor didn't like her work. But then he said three words that turned her mood right around: "You're too good."

"Really?" she squealed, craning her neck to look at him. However, in a most perplexing turn of events, Robsin had disappeared from sight. Puzzled, Willow turned back around and nearly leapt out of her skin when he appeared inches from her nose.

"No," he sneered. "You're a great disappointment." Willow wasn't sure if he was serious or not, but the words were rather hurtful. What was that article Mara had made her read about how method acting could be toxic to those around you? When she got home, she'd have to look it up. He wasn't done talking, however. "But I will just have to work with what I have, hmm?"

Well, at least Robsin wasn't totally giving up on her. She'd just have to do better...even if she was uncomfortable.

—

Maybe I'm overreacting, Alfie thought as he crept up the main stairs of the Gatehouse. That's what Eddie had said, anyway, when Alfie had insisted that he at least try to find Willow. What if Willow really is just out shopping, and I just end up getting captured because I was paranoid? He shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. It would be fine. His friends knew where he was if anything went wrong.

One of the steps creaked under his weight, and he tensed, waiting for Frobisher himself to leap out of some dark corner and eat his brains or something. When nothing of the sort occurred, he relaxed and pressed onward.

Alfie peeked around the corner into the drawing room, praying to every god he knew that no one would be there. Unfortunately for him, he'd forgotten that none of the gods were ever very pleased with Sibuna. There was Willow face to face with Robert Frobisher-Smythe; Alfie's stomach dropped out from beneath him and he swore emphatically under his breath.

"Keep clam," he told himself. "You can do this." He wracked his brain, but came up empty. "Do what?"

He drew himself back out of the doorway to think of something, but, in true Alfie Lewis fashion, went stumbling into a wall decoration. It tumbled to the floor with a deafening crash, and—like a bolt of lightning—an idea struck him.

He peered back around the corner and caught a glimpse of Willow nearly backed against the door that lead to the dreaded tank room. "No, Willow," he hissed, reaching into his pocket for his pen. "Don't go up there." Not yet! I have to try.

"Did I get the role?" Willow asked. She was so innocent that it made Alfie's heart hurt. Don't you dare touch her, old man.

"Oh, yes," Frobisher snarled. "I think I can find a part for you to play...a tragic one."

Willow was now fully pressed against the door, and Frobisher's hand reached around her for the doorknob, coming in close. It looked like he was going to try something with her, Alfie's blood boiled at the sight of something so disgustingly perverse. He couldn't even imagine how frightened Willow was. Stay calm. It's now or never; you only get one shot to save her.

He held the pen tightly in his grip and started to run back the way he came, this time trying to make as much noise as possible. "HEY, FROBISHER!" Alfie bellowed, dragging his pen along the banister as he blustered down the stairs so it made a sharp rap, rap, rap, rap sound. "COME AND GET ME!"

He faintly heard concerned voices from upstairs and the thunder of footfalls as they pursued him. Alfie threw open the front door and pressed the elevator button frantically. He stepped inside just as Frobisher and Denby made it to the landing.

"The door!" Denby said as she pointed to the main entrance, and Alfie watched as Frobisher's shoulder's bunched up in fury. "They're gone."

Well, that wasn't so bad. The traitorous elevator dinged as it began closing, and Alfie swore. Frobisher whipped his around to look at him with those glowing red eyes just as the door shut completely.

Alfie was shaking so badly he thought he might collapse, and it was only the adrenaline and the single-minded determination to save his girlfriend that gave him the energy to sprint out of the elevator and haul Willow to her feet.

"Alfie!" she exclaimed, delighted to see her boyfriend. "What's going on?"

He shook his head, dragging her by the wrist back to the elevator. "No time! We need to get out of here!" He was in such a hurry, he didn't hear the small clatter of his pen hitting the floor.

"You don't understand," Willow tried to explain, unsure of what the panic was all about as she was practically thrown inside the elevator. "I'm in the middle of an acting class!"

Alfie didn't bother to answer her, instead pushing the lever up with all his might. He could hear Frobisher on the landing, his crazed cry of "NO!" echoing off the walls of the Gatehouse. A hand reached through the closing door and grasped Willow's forearm. She screeched in surprise, shaking her arm to loosen Frobisher's grip.

With a pounding heart, Alfie launched himself at Frobisher's hand, wrapping his hands around it tightly. He dug his pointer finger hard into Frobisher's wrist; the man shouted with pain and released his grip. The arm retracted and the door slide the rest of the way shut. As the elevator started its descent, both students could hear Denby's muffled voice travel down the shaft, "It's too late."

His legs nearly gave out beneath him and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He did it. They were safe. Willow was safe. Without warning, Alfie surged forward and hugged her tightly, not bothering to hold back his tears. Startled, Willow hugged him back, reaching up to rub his back. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew her Alfie needed her right then; that's all that mattered.

When the doors opened, they rushed out into the cool afternoon air, leaving the Gatehouse looming behind them.