The Evening Street : RADIODUST

10: Cool Water - 3 :DRAFT:

A/N Really drafty rn but enjoy!

Anthony groaned softly, standing up in the closet. Valentino had left a few minutes — Ten — earlier. He hadn't done anything after his talk, nothing that bad — but still Anthony felt so fucking scared,angry and hopeless. His hands were shaking as he tried to fix his collar and tighten his belt.

Anthony's mind was spiraling, freaking out and thoughts screaming. Then he noticed how fast his chest was rising and falling.

He can't have an attack now.

Anthony closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing.

What did Cherrie say to do?

What did she say?

One... one

Shit—

What is one thing he could hear?

Air Conditioning blew through the vents.

Two things he could taste.

Minty toothpaste and strawberry lipstick, stuck on Anthony's tongue.

Three things he could smell.

Anthony could smell the flowery detergent, the strong bleach, and his own human scent.

Four things he could see.

There was a dry mop, a wash bucket, a grey-shovel under the cabinet, and his pink gun on the top shelf.

Five things he could feel.

He could feel the tight bra, the shirt's soft fabric, his sweaty skin, the crisp cold air and a golden hair strand tickling his nose.

Angel breathed in softly. His hands still trembled, reaching for the gun at the top of the shelf. Anthony was tall, but he wasn't towering like Val.

Anthony reached out for the gun and tucked it back in his bra. He stepped out of the janitorial closet and walked down the hallway. Slowly, his shaky steps steadied and Anthony covered himself in a familiar mask of self confidence. His cheeks tightened to a well-pratciced smile.

He had to find Alastor. He couldn't leave him waiting.

Anthony pushed the door and predictably, there was a lot of action in the theater's lobby. Lead actors, side actors, and background actors were being praised by family, friends and the business-folk, aka investors.

Foxy, a theatrical retired legend, was chatting with Josephine. Red hair falling on her shoulders, she was escaticsly shaking Josephine's hand. Now, she was another investor and seen as one of the main people who decided if a theater company could become a true Broadway musical. People trusted her reviews and critiques.

Anthony had seen her before lurking around this theater. Foxy was found always supporting any type of theatrical demonstration that was promising.

Anthony overhead a snippet of their conversation.

"Oh, if your production had a bigger budget and a better stage you could do much more. Your company— Stolas' company is absolutely wonderful. Josephine dear, you're a brilliant actress, I was surprised normally—" Foxy's voice faded out as Anthony heard another conversation, closer to him.

"My little boy! Look at you, look at you!"

"Mom, I'm adult now. You don't have to..."

Not far from Anthony was a mother praising her son— the police officer in the rain scene, and the director in the beginning of the show. Thomas, was the boy's name. He had potential and was pretty funny. Surprisingly, he never went to college, just straight to theater... anyways... Anthony thought it was sweet how his mother adored him like that.