Phantom Pirouette

Chapter 2: Cinnamon

I was waiting for a while. I propped myself against a white pillar and watched the rest of the room dance. I couldn’t see R anywhere. 

Part of me was curious about him, the other part was terrified. I didn’t even know his actual name, much less where he came from. He could’ve been a murderer and I wouldn’t have known. What made it worse was the fact that he said people were looking for him, so he must have been dangerous. However, a little piece of me adored him. He was stunning and had amazing manners, he had the most comforting voice and warm hands, and his eyes, oh, his eyes, they shone like the moon on a dark night, bright green and reflective of the chandeliers above, I longed to be swallowed up in his gaze and trapped in his grasp for eternity, I never wanted to leave him, however, I also wanted to run away from him. I didn’t know who he actually was and that scared me, but the ominous aura he gave off drew me in.  
I didn’t know him, but I loved him. He was absolutely gorgeous, he was tall and fair, hardly any extra muscle, but he looked so well built, he had brown hair that nearly covered his eyes, freckles spattered his face and a small birthmark in the shape of a rose gleamed on the side of his neck. From what I saw, his size was reasonably generous. He seemed like a poet, a hopeless romantic that wrote his lover poems. He had loving eyes and a well-shaped lip; he struck me as a stereotypical lover boy, the type that gets dedicated to one person and is the most hurt by their loss. He had well-shaped hands that seemed to fit perfectly around my waist, they were ungloved, and I could feel his nails against my sides. He wore rings, though, only on his thumbs, showing that there was no commitment to anyone other than himself. (I’ll be the one to change that.) His voice reminded me of a lullaby, I found it so comforting. While I waited, I started thinking about what it would be like with him after the ball, what we would do and where we’d go, Corduroy would surely take that girl, and I, personally, didn’t want to be at the manor when things went down.  
I waited a little while longer. Then, I went to go find my brother. He was sitting on the steps with his wasted girlfriend. I sat down next to him and kept my distance from the girl. “Hello, Dimitry,” he said, trying to keep her upright. “Do you even know her name?” I asked quickly. Corduroy looked at me then at the girl, “Her name is Rosa.” I nodded and looked at her, “And is she even alive?” Corduroy sighed, “Yes. She is. What about you? Where’s your date?” I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or not. “He went to get a drink.” I snapped back. Corduroy laughed, “And he still hasn’t come back?” I wanted to hit him.  
“He probably just got lost...I bet he’s looking for me,” I said nervously. Maybe he wasn’t coming back. Maybe he was just going to leave me there alone. I so wanted to see his manor. “Dimitry, there’s no one else here that looks like you.” I thought about that. Was he with someone else? Did he not actually like me? Did he find someone that looked better? I began to panic, now that I look back on it, it did seem a little petty. “Well...There’s a lot of people here...Maybe...Maybe he’s having a hard time in the crowd.” I’d lost my energy just by saying that. I already felt hopeless. I hoped that I'd finally find someone that genuinely liked me. I suppose that wasn’t the case. “Corduroy, I’m thirsty. Is there a table anywhere?” My brother nodded and pointed to the back of the room. “There are drinks back there. I don’t suppose the butlers are making any more rounds.” I stood up and straightened my tailcoat, and almost in an enraged temper I began to head to the table. I’d find R there if I were lucky.  
I walked through the crowd and tried to find R dancing with someone else. I was looking for something to hold against him, however, I hadn’t any luck. I finally saw the table, there weren’t many people there other than a small group of masked boys. All dressed in full black, they covered their eyes with white-feathered masquerade masks. I stayed far from them. I went to the end of the table and grabbed a glass of water. I leaned against the wall and clutched the glass in my left hand. I looked out at the crowd; I thought I saw a glimpse of R’s suit dancing with someone else. I thought it was him at first...Until I saw his face. It wasn’t him. I looked back at the group of boys in black and saw they were all crowded around someone else. I set my glass on the table and tried to think of something else. I thought about my brother, and the peasants we saw earlier. Then I tried to imagine what their non-existent houses looked like. They looked odd. Broken wood planks and cobwebs used as the only decoration in their tiny little huts. Shattered windows and roofs that were on the brink of collapsing. I almost laughed. I figured that it would look weird if I were to just laugh alone with no one else around me.
Out of nowhere, I smelled cinnamon. I didn’t know what it was, but I smelled it. It was very close. I looked at the table and all the food that was on it. Little things and finger food, but nothing that would contain cinnamon. I was allergic to cinnamon, and just to be on the safe side, I took another glass of water and walked back to the steps. Corduroy wasn’t there, neither was Rosa; I just sat alone for a while. I thought about R again. I don’t know why, but he was very easy to think about. Very easy to get lost in. He reminded me of a maze. Very difficult, a lot of dead ends, and nearly impossible to finish. Just by talking to him, I felt as if I’d been led down a rabbit hole that had been 84 feet deep. It was difficult to get even footing while speaking to him. I loved mazes. I loved them because they challenged me, and they weren’t just handed to me like everything else. They made me think, and they were one of the many things I was better at than my brother at.  

I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment; I needed to cool my head; I was thinking too hard about things. “Dimitry?” a familiar voice called; it was on my right. I startled conscious again and looked over to see R holding a drink. “Are you alright? What are you doing over here?” I heard him ask as he forced the drink into my hand, he sounded worried. He put his hands on either side of my face and turned my head to look at my side profile on the left and right and sighed, “Your face is hot, drink something,” he said, motioning to the drink in my hand. I held the glass up to my lips, and before drinking anything, I noticed something odd about it. R was facing the group of masked boys on the other side of the table, and right as I was about to drink the mystery beverage, I noticed it smelled of cinnamon. Cinnamon? I pretended to drink some of it and set the glass back on the table. Why did it smell like cinnamon?  

Then, I heard someone scream.