Libelle Hall (an Unexpected Love Story in Three Movements)

Part One

Roderich had never been in a more uncomfortable situation in his life. The street around him swarmed with a mass of unwashed strangers, most of them fellow university students. Some held up placards and shouted slogans; others pushed angrily against the waist-high, orange construction barrier that stretched across the stairs to the concert hall. A group of destruction workers milled around behind the blockade, checking clipboards and smoking cigarettes and throwing dark, dirty looks at the clamouring protesters. Roderich was just trying his best not to touch anyone. He was fairly sure the man beside him had never taken a bath in his life. He turned desperately to Elizaveta.

"Well, this... this is not exactly what I expected."

Elizaveta's features twisted in sympathy. She had a red bandana around her head, a roll of barbed wire around her wrist, and carried a sign that read, 'SAVE LIBELLE HALL!' She really did get carried away sometimes. "Come on Roderich, you organised this. It's a protest, what did you expect?"

Roderich put a hand to his chest, trying to shrink into himself. Yes, he had suggested a campaign to save the hall, but this sort of wild demonstration went far beyond his expectations. "I expected that we would go downtown and have a strong word with the mayor. I mean, what is going on here? Who are these people? Good Lord, Elizaveta, I think there's something living in that woman's hair!"

Elizaveta laughed and pushed Roderich's shoulder. He discreetly dusted the cashmere - it was filthy out here. "They're here for the same reason as us. To prevent the hall from being destroyed."

Roderich wished that were true. However, as he glanced around at the screaming masses, with their dreadlocks and feathers and hideously overgrown facial hair, he had to wonder... "It looks like they simply want an excuse to protest."

Elizaveta shrugged dismissively. "Well, who cares? The more vocal support the better."

Roderich took a very deep breath to try and calm himself. He was never very good in crowds, so he tried to focus on the reason he was here in the first place. Perhaps Elizaveta was right. Regardless of their reasons, the more people who showed their anger at the planned destruction of Libelle Hall, the better the chance of government actually listening to them and taking action to save it. And they had to save it. Roderich could not even contemplate the alternative.

Just as the crowd around Roderich grew louder and pushier, the group of workers parted, and a man strode up to the orange barrier. He drew the attention of the protestors immediately. Perhaps it was his platinum white hair, or his obnoxious grin. Maybe it was the way his eyes blazed into the mob, or the way he sauntered up to the furious crowd without an apparent care in the world. Or maybe it was the bright pink pony emblazoned on his hard hat. Whatever the reason, the entire pushing, yelling, thronging mass turned their immediate attention to the young demolition worker. He gave a small wave in response.

"Afternoon, hippies!"

Roderich waited for someone to react. No one did. Then suddenly, forcefully, Elizaveta pushed him from behind. "Go, go!"

Roderich stumbled forward, taken by surprise, and steadied himself at the last second on the edge of the orange barrier. His heart leapt to his throat. He looked up, slowly, into the most astonishing crimson eyes he had ever seen. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. What was he supposed to say? The demolition worker regarded him amusedly. "Well, you don't look like a hippy."

Roderich fumbled desperately for a response. "I am a musician."

"A musician?" The worker snorted with derision, his upper lip curled in a sarcastic smirk. "Here to sing your songs of protest?"

Roderich drew himself upright and dusted off his sleeves. How embarrassingly undignified... "I am here to prevent an injustice."

The worker's startling red eyes flicked past Roderich in disregard. "And I'm here to do a job. I'm gonna need you hippies to clear out of here before..."