Chiaroscuro (Malec AU)

3

Magnus closed his eyes as the cab approached the entrance to the gardens. He took a few deep breaths, in and out, trying to quell the anxiety that stirred his heart into a frenzied beat. He kept repeating the same mantra, over and over, to keep from panicking.

You can do this, he said to himself.

You can do this.

The cab came to a stop. Magnus opened his eyes and swallowed against the pounding in his chest. He wanted to throw up, but feigned calm as he paid the driver and stepped out of the vehicle.

He watched the car drive away. The squeezing in his chest growing more and more intense as the cab disappeared from view.

No going back.

With a small preparatory breath, Magnus turned.

His jaw almost hit the ground.

He'd heard people talk about The New York Botanical Garden before. He heard them speak of how its beauty bordered on spiritual experience. He heard how artists, who struggled with creative burnout, visited and returned touched and inspired by what they saw. He'd seen pictures and brochures and thought them charming, but seeing it in person was nothing short of spectacular.

Bordered by trees both exotic and domestic, the Haupt Observatory towered high above, its white double domed roof gleaming in the morning sun. Gates of brick and wrought iron surrounded the perimeter, guarding the delicate beauty within its walls. Flowers of all shapes and colors lined the stone walkways amongst which Magnus strolled, admiring the multitude of ways the light caught the petals, the scenery coming alive in a dance of highlights and shadows. The vast array of floral scents envigorated him. Stopping to smell them all would take a lifetime to accomplish; a challenge Magnus would readily accept, spending the rest of his days surrounded by nature and all within it he adored. It enthralled him.

Central Park was a paradise, but this was Eden itself.

For a moment, he forgot why he was here, lost in the wonder around him, only to be reminded when he wandered into the middle of a crowd. Hundreds of people formed a haphazard line, waiting with hushed excitement to be ushered in.

The carefree bliss he'd been feeling retreated as the tendrils of anxiety snaked their way back around Magnus's heart. He usually enjoyed being around people, but only ever around people he knew. Now, he found himself surrounded by strangers in a place he's never been, with nothing familiar to ground him.

"Good morning, sir. Are you here for the exhibition?" A male voice asked. Magnus whirled around, startled by how near it sounded, and found himself face to face with a Hispanic man in a suit. Conventionally attractive, in his mid twenties, with his silky black hair neatly swept back. His lips were curled into a smile. Practiced and polite. The silver badge on his jacket identified him as security. He must have honed in on Magnus wandering about like a lost sheep. Was he that obvious? Good Lord.

"Uh, yeah." Magnus took a second to regain his composure, smoothing down the lapels of his maroon blazer. "I have an art piece on display here. I was invited to come, but I'm not really sure where I'm supposed to go."

"You're one of the artists?" The officer asked. Magnus nodded. "Name?"

"Magnus. Magnus Bane."

"Just a moment." Magnus watched as the man stepped away, pulling a radio from his belt to question someone on the other end about names on a list. Magnus fiddled with his lapel pin as he waited, fingers trembling. Part of him didn't want to be among the names. He wanted to back out, to take off and go home, back to where everything was safe and familiar. But the other part urged him to stay, curious to see how this would all unfold. He promised he would do this, not only for Catarina, or for himself, but for Emily.