𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑴 𝑶𝑭 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 (𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎)

Chapter Two

Lively voices echoed familiarly through the dark halls in the Opera's chambers; a disruption of the peaceful silence that Will only recognised to be the girls' return from practice.

He turned over in his bed to face the door and watched as the ballerinas rushed past; their skirts flowing and their laughter fading into the other rooms. For a moment he lingered on how he'd miss their laughter once he left. God, he felt hopeless. He only wished to see the one person that might be able to brighten his day. Then, he could in the very least say goodbye.

As though in answer to his prayers, she walked through the doorway then. She was still wearing her sequinned costume that contrasted her dark hair; similar to Will's, only straight and cropped below her shoulders. Curious eyes, pretty and doe-like, trailed over him.

"Are you okay?" She asked, voice soft and sweet. She took her place next to Will on his bed and he let her; he was distrusting towards most people, but he and Abigail had known each other since they were children. He considered her family, in spite of having no relation by blood.

"After that? I don't think so"

Will scoffed, tired and gentle. He propped his head up on his elbow and looked looked up at Abigail through half-lidded eyes. "How was practice?"

"Not good, I missed you."

Will smiled, though sadly, and looked down at the blankets beneath him whilst straightening the creases that it formed with his fingers. "You'll miss me often then, since I'll soon be forced to leave"

Abigail sighed. A gentle worry washed over her, but she didn't fully believe it just yet. "I'm sure Freddie didn't mean what she said" she reasoned. "Or in the very least I doubt the production will allow it"

"You do?" Will chuckled incredulously.

"I have no relevant role in the performance, they'll have no problem replacing me"

Abigail went to speak again, but Will interrupted her.

"Its me against the opera lead. A lousy choir boy against the prima donna. It's hopeless, Abigail"

She relented. A silent acceptance came over them both; not tense, but heavy nonetheless.

Abigail smiled absentmindedly in the midst of it.
"I never understood why she was chosen as the lead. She doesn't sing very well at all"

Will chuckled in response, a little bit brighter. "she really doesn't" he agreed.

There was silence once more, only this time lighter.
...it didn't last.

"I would've thought Alana would be here with you right now. She's always been very protective of you."

Will stiffened. He hummed in response — which wasn't really an answer.

"Oh, come on. We all saw her rush after you when you stormed out."

Will glanced up from the blanket beneath him, looking distinctively bothered despite having appeared that way long before. "I'm guessing this means the rumours about her and I have returned?"

"Yes. Is this about the rumours?"

"No."

There was a pause. Will spoke again.

"…She tried to comfort me and I pushed her away"

Of course, Abigail asked why. And truth be told Will didn't know either. He couldn't think of a single good reason for why he'd left her and he'd done it regardless. It couldn't have been Alana's fault... She was always so wonderful.
She had taken Will in when she was just a year older than he is now. Treated him like her own ever since.
…Loved him like her own, ever since.