𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 - MR, TR

3.

"Keep making me laugh
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime"
• • •

Tom

I watch him sneak off into the crowd.

He sure is a piece of work.

I take one last look in the mirror, adjusting my tie before setting out.

The atmosphere is dull as always as I tend to blur it out with my thoughts. I grab a drink from the table and take a stroll around the ball room. Everything seems to be in order. No chaos, no distractions, no noise...boring.

I stand tall in a corner, drink in hand as my eyes wander the room. My face holds no emotion, keeping me masked from unwanted attention, a shadow of sorts. It's what I was meant to be. A shadow of my father, a follower who would never exceed their master. A dark aura trailing behind carrying this dull energy with every step, but my eyes say a different story, the pages concealed for those too insolent to decipher it. I hold fear dear to my soul to hide from all feelings that might cross me, shadows don't have feelings now do they? A manipulator of sorts, using one to shield the other and twisting how I am perceived and how  people act around me. Respect may have to be earned, but fear runs deep in just a glance.

To ease my mind, I've played a game since I was young. As if all this happening before me is just a simple tale inked onto pages of a good book, a dark one. Each person plays their roles, they chat and they drink, they're all the same. Dull individuals who are too fucked in the head to be useful in entertainment. The same pattern over and over again. A melody on repeat over and over again unable to move out of line, each step repeated and every instrument in tune.

But there's a hitch.

A note off key.

My eyes land on a particular figure hidden in the far end corner in the dark, her features barely visible under the dim lit candles. Eyes watching a pattern unfold. She's watching steps, one person steps out and another follows suit right on time, each laugh, each clink and each bow times to perfection on an endless loop. And she seems to enjoy it.

I take a sip and swirl the liquid in the glass, before taking a step forward. I make my way to her, my steps inaudible and my presence beside her undetected.

Her black hair pulled up and the loose strands dangling in her face. Her face holds nothing, her lips a playful small smile and eyes filled with something I can't decipher.

"It's rude to stare."

I arched a brow, "staring seems a bit obsessive."

"I disagree."

"What is it so fascinating about this room that keep your eyes from looking at who you're talking to."

"Fascination is quite a word. A symphony, an on tune melody, a perfect harmony. These strike me better. This room is a perfect example of the theatre. A night of lies and masks. The actors play beautifully, do they not? The scene is set to resemble the deceit one night makes believable. A perfect painting of how well the truths stay hidden and lies bring forth this image. I do find it fascinating, how well they put up the act. I'm curious of the next chapter, are you not?" She smiled, finally turning to me, he head slightly tilted to the side.