When He Sees Me | Logicality

9. We Do Not Belong Together

One day until dress rehearsal. Eight days until opening night.

Logan couldn't find anyone to take the place of the stagehand the director had swiped, so he was in charge of curtains, as well as making sure everything else worked properly. He had considered training one of the interns, but Terrance had stolen them all for the costume department, and the rest were already working with the props.

The whole cast and crew was worn out. Most of all was the poor stagehand-turned-chorus, as he'd been working overtime the past day, and it showed. He was getting better, admittedly, but that didn't quite erase the apprehension permeating the theatre.

The sooner this damn musical was over with, the better.

Idly, Logan found himself slipping into the rhythm of the curtains. The movement of the ropes soothed him, and quickly he was in that place of nothingness, his body on autopilot.

He was overcome with the sudden feeling of sunlight on his stomach, and the laziness of stretching, catlike, in the sun, a book he was half-reading, half not, in his hands. The weight of something on his feet. Perhaps an actual cat. Logan wasn't sure. 

In this place, where-ever it was, Logan closed his eyes. Faintly, he could hear someone playing the piano. The apartment below him, maybe. 

Because he was in an apartment, it seemed. He was lounging in a large balcony window-seat, and the sun was streaming in, impossibly warm and soft on his aching body.

Why did his arms hurt?

Right. The ropes.

Logan felt reality start to crash back into him. Uncharacteristically, he resisted, and the dreamscape faded back into being.

There was a soft huff at his feet. He sat up, and was face to face with a contentedly sleepy dog. When she realized Logan was awake, she sprang up, all excited tail and wet nose. For a moment, Logan was taken aback, but he quickly set aside his book to devote some well-deserved attention to the little creature.

"This is between you and me, you understand," he said quietly, in response to her thumping tail as he scratched behind her ears. "I have a reputation."

She merely grinned at him, closing her dark eyes in order to properly enjoy the attention.

The piano sound grew louder, and Logan struggled to pick out the tune. The previous one had been some sort of stately Strauss waltz, but this one was a complete change in genre. It was a dainty, simple melody, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was so obvious. What was it?

There was a jangling of keys in the hall, and the sound of the door opening. The dog bolted off of Logan's lap, rocketing towards whoever was coming home, leaving Logan feeling slightly offended. 

Logan heard the sounds of greeting, but couldn't quite see the other person yet. They greeted the dog, petting her and complimenting her, as well as apologizing for being away so long.

"Have you been good to Logan today?" the voice asked, and then laughed. "Good girl!"

Confusion flooded Logan's mind, and he struggled against the feeling of the curtain ropes in his hands. He desperately needed to know, to understand. The feeling vanished.

A man stepped into the room, and Logan couldn't breathe.

"Honey?"

No. This couldn't be. 

And yet, it was. This perfect corner of Logan's mind, one he'd just happened to stumble upon, and he was here.

Even though he couldn't be.