The Other Twin

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

*My First Car Chase*

His reaction is immediate, "You were trying to kidnap me." His tone comes out reproachful. Yeah, like locking teen musicians in secret passages is my past time.

"Do you really want me to flick your forehead again?" I ask warningly. That shuts him up and he quickly steps back. Good.

I set my attention on the stubborn door before me. I didn't have time to be stuck in here with Saxophone Dude, Ms. Diane, expected me to finish the first two backdrop scenes today, and I hated to disappoint. With a sideways glance at my "companion" who was currently testing how far he could stretch his bottom lip, and confirming he would be of no help, I tried to twist the knob again.

And again.

And again.

I didn't bother trying the third time since it was pretty obvious the door wouldn't open. To think, a block of wood was the only thing separating me from the other side. I wonder if the first guy who invented doors gets paid every time someone builds a door. If so, that guy is probably really wealthy, or dead. It's still a fascinating breakthrough in ingenuity.

"You know staring at it won't open it." I turned away from the door to see Saxophone Dude smirking with amusement.

"Well why don't you try then genius?"

"Maybe I will." He retorted, walking over. I sarcastically gestured to the door, "Don't be shy, feel free to stun me with your magical door opening skills." He reached forward and tried to twist the knob, and like me, couldn't open it.

"It's locked." He stated plainly.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." I deadpanned dryly.

"Hey, I tried."

For like forty seconds.

"Okay, please move out, I'm going to take another crack at it."

I blow my bangs from my face and begin to assess our options. I study the door critically sizing it up. Taking a deep breath, I took three steps back before charging towards the door with my fist. Looking back, it was a really stupid thing to do, but I do really stupid things when I'm panicked. With what I hoped to be a mighty punch, my fist connected roughly with the wooden surface of the door.

Ow.

Ow, ow, ow.

To say it hurt would be a lie. It was an intense pain that exploded in my knuckles. A pain built of unfathomable strength and stupidity. Mostly stupidity. My wonderful companion, note sarcasm, could've helped but he was too busy laughing himself silly at my injury. Granted it was a pretty pathetic injury.

I shot him a glare before going to inspect the damage. Other than the skin along my knuckles which was tinged a bright red, my hand looked fine. Once the throbbing subsided to a numbed pain and I made sure that I hadn't broken anything, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. It was a true blessing that I didn't break anything. Like any artist, I knew that my hands were my only tool. And if anything happened to my hands, then I don't know what I would do. Feverishly thanking God for sparing my hand from my foolish actions I turned to glower at the door.

"You're so blonde." Saxophone Dude commented as he stifled another chuckle. I ignored him. Punching the wall was obviously a dud.

I leaned back against the dusty walls, sliding down to the floor-ignoring the fact that I was probably sitting on top of years of grime, mold and all sorts of other things that'd make a germaphobic faint. To my dismay Saxophone Dude slid down beside me, but surprised me by keeping a respectful distance between us.