Michael Holmes: Secret Son of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 17: The perfect performance

Michael helps Sherlock to solve cases when he comes back from school, but he usually lets his father do all the talking and explaining to Greg- Sherlock does have a unique way with words.

It was Sherlock's third case today. He rolled his eyes as he continued to scroll on social media. Scrolling through social media... in a crime scene? Really, dad? Michael thought to himself.

The consulting detective gave Lestrade 'the look'. He always does that look that after he solves an easy case (boring cases, in other words). But Michael wouldn't blame him though, the detective did in fact cracked the case it in a matter of minutes.

"What are you doing?" The detective inspector scoffed.

"Boring." Sherlock mumbled.

Lestrade walked closer towards the detective. "What?"

"The murderer is obviously the news reporter. As I said, the art of disguise is knowing how to hide in plain sight." He said casually, turning up his collar. Michael stood beside his father, trying not to show his laughter.

"Obviously?" Lestrade hung his head in embarrassment and starts to question his own life career.

"Well, good day, George." Sherlock said, grinning. "Let's go, Michael."

"It's Greg!" Lestrade corrected. Michael looked up at his father, who was smiling at the detective inspector's response.

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The following day

Michael frowned. Why did I even joined the group in the first place? Performing in front of the school doesn't seem like such a fun idea anymore.

It was the first time Michael desperately wished that time could slow down and class could continue longer. It was also the first time he didn't want to go for school lunch break... Because the performance will start after break time's over.

It was history class and practically everyone was either sleeping or drooling over their desks, and only few people remained awake.

Sally, Wyatt, Olivia, Alexander, June, and surprisingly... me.

Michael's eyes were locked on the clock, hoping that time would somehow move slower. And then the bell rang.

Students cheered as they jumped out from their seat and rushed towards the canteen like a swarm of bees. The history teacher looked at the group of energetic students and sighed as she took a pile of papers and walk out of the classroom. Michael was still sitting on his seat, covering his face in despair with the textbook.

June walked towards him and snapped her fingers twice, getting his attention. "Are you sleeping again?" She could tell from his face that he was nervous for the performance.

Ridiculous emotions, Michael cursed.

She tried to lighten up the mood. "Relax. You've done okay in the rehearsals." She said. "You'll do fine."

He was about to ask "How would you know?" but then quickly stopped himself and just nodded at her. Awkwardness filled the room as they continue to stare at each other.

"Uh... It's getting awkward again." She said.

"Thank... you." He muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Thank you." He repeated once more.

June smiled slightly at him. "Now come on, we're 10 minutes late for break."

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Students were slowly filling the hall as the clock continues ticking.

The entire group was already standing beside the stage, chatting about their favourite movies/series and cooking shows or  whatever else, probably a way to calm themselves down before the performance - Michael didn't hear what they were talking about anyways.

It was as if he just put himself in a trance, everything around him disappearing and slowly turning to white. It was as if he had just left his body, and is now finally alone and peaceful in his own little world. He literally couldn't feel anything - he couldn't feel pain or literally any sort of emotion at all - and it was... nice.

The first time he had ever done this was after his mother's death, and it helped him to cope with it and move on quicker. And the second and last time he did this was when he moved into the orphanage home, meeting new people and taking in new surrounding.

He wonders if Sherlock could do that 'thing' too?

"Mike?" June repeated once more, waving her hands in front of his face. "Mike?"

Suddenly Michael is snapped back into the real world, and he is now back in the hall. The group already started picking up their instruments and one-by-one walking up to the stage. He blinked his eyes and immediately took up his guitar and followed June up the stage.

The audience cheered.

June started to play the intro and the rest of them followed like they had done in practice. The music filled the entire school, and everyone was watching the performance in awe. It went better than they anticipated, it was almost too good to be true. Amazing...? No, it was PERFECT.

But in the middle of all the music, cheering and clapping, Michael was the only one who noticed it. The only one who noticed that red dot. The only one who noticed the red dot that suddenly appeared on Olivia's forehead.

Michael threw the guitar from his hands, running towards Olivia, trying to warn her. He was so close - but it was still too late.

The beautiful singing voice ended abruptly, and red blood started pouring from her forehead. The students screamed and shouted, the teachers came running towards the stage, and suddenly what seemed like a fantasy had turned into a living nightmare.

It was messy. All Michael could remember was the screaming, the horrified faces, and him sitting beside Olivia's lifeless body, scolding himself for not coming sooner, for not realising sooner - but it was too late.

He was too late.

Again.