Dark Museum

Sophia

"Hello?"

Speaking into the dead receiver while she sketched gave her little comfort, and she was glad no one was around to witness the action. Being back in the office with its ample overhead lighting and shut door gave Sophia more peace than trying to avoid the guys in the galleries. After they agreed to let her sleep alone in what they'd come to know as Blair's bedroom, she hated being a prisoner in there.

Soon after Kieron and Josh's showdown in the bedroom, Kieron dragged the cot to the kitchen and set it up beside the sofas. He, Ajay, and Josh slept there, giving Sophia the pull-down bed in the bedroom on her own. Yes, she had privacy and her own en-suite, but isolation in such a big building felt unnecessary.

It felt strange how quickly Sophia found herself in a rhythm. She wanted to go home, of course she did, but the frustration she let the guys see was a fraction of the truth. Exploring the new space was almost thrilling, the quiet a novelty she couldn't quite get used to.

Slipping upstairs that morning after a granola bar and coffee breakfast, she returned to the office where she'd found the sketch of David and shut herself inside. Kieron mentioned encountering a voice over the phone, and she was determined to hear that voice again.

She sat in the swivel chair for half an hour drawing everything around her with the receiver silently to her ear before the other end clicked.

Sophia sat up straight. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" The man asked. His voice was American, weary as the first time he'd spoken to her.

"Sophia Stewart. I'm locked in a museum — an abandoned building. I don't know where it is exactly—"

"Do the lights flicker on your side too?"

"My side?"

"I'm in a lobby of some sort," he said. "Tickets. Coats. Gift shop. Everything's bolted tight."

"Bolted? Wait, are you in the same—? We've never found a lobby."

"I know."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah."

"How long have you been there?"

"Oh ... week or two. Hard to tell time."

She found herself nodding. A week in solitude ... "That must be awful. What's your name?"

"Demetri."

Sophia's eyes went to the drawing she'd done of David, her manager. "Wait, David?"

"De-me-tri."

"I guess I'm being paranoid. We've been in here about a week."

"With others, though."

"Three guys."

"That must be uncomfortable."

Sophia chuckled. "They've been making things rough on me. At least I have a bed."

"Bed?"

"Like, people used to live here. It's hard to remember sometimes I don't live here too. I'm—" she stopped herself, wanting to admit out loud how even after her relatively short stay, she'd grown used to the place, established a routine. She wanted to admit she was falling in love with Josh; they had to tiptoe around Kieron and Ajay.

Even in their small group, cliques formed, rumors spread. Us versus them.

Kieron had taken it upon himself to scout the museum daily, picking out possible weapons and storing them in one of the offices he'd found a key to. Nobody knew how many he'd found or what his criteria were for a weapon. Nobody knew what he planned to do with them.

Ajay explored the space, poking into every corner and opening every door — more or less what Sophia and Josh did themselves. But if Ajay caught Sophia in the kitchen on her own, he'd cozy up to her.

"You got anyone back home?" He'd ask.

"What, like family?"

He leaned against the counter, popped the tab on a Coke, and handed it to her.

"Thanks." She sat at one of the tables with the drink and a can of tuna.

"Someone special, I mean," he continued.

Sophia shrugged, taking a bite. "I had a boyfriend a few months ago. A guy from work: Jonathan. I wasn't allowed to see anyone there, so we kept it secret." But saying it only brought back the pang that Jonathan never liked her to begin with.

Ajay nodded and sipped another can. "So you've got practice."

"What do you mean?"

"You and ...?"

"Stop it."

"I have a wife," he said. "A little son who looks just like me."

"Are they actors too?"

He shook his head. "I married her the old fashioned way: being set up by my parents. In fact, I kind of loved her more because she wasn't a fan. I could come home and switch off."

"That actually makes sense."

He sat beside her on the bench with his back against the table, pressing her thigh with his. "And now in here," he paused, shrugging. "Nobody knows me either. You all think I'm lying."

"No one thinks you're lying Ajay. We're all trying to figure things out." She scooted an inch away from him, hoping he wouldn't notice. "I mean, Kieron makes sense because he and Blair were seeing each other and it obviously didn't go well. Josh is a famous singer—"

"I don't think he's famous," Ajay said, smirking.

"And there's you, mister I-can't-walk-down-the-streets-of-Mumbai-without-being-molested—"

"That's really true of anyone, though."

"Why me, though? I'm not connected to Blair in any way. I'm not famous. I don't understand why I'm here."

That drawing of David, though.

Ajay swept a lock of hair behind her ear. "Maybe she saw you on the street and thought you were beautiful."

"I doubt that."

He guided her chin toward himself and held her gaze. "You're gorgeous."

"Ajay—"

"There's no reason for you to be lonely here." His hand went to her thigh.

"Ajay!" She overturned the can of Coke in her scramble to get off the bench.

"We could comfort each other. Think of it as a public service."

"They have their way with you?" Demetri asked, startling her back to the phone conversation.

"What?"

"Confined space. One female. Do the math."

She swallowed the dryness in her throat. Sketching gave her something to do with her hands. "I can take care of myself."

"Men get desperate sometimes."

"But it's not like—"

"Like we'll never escape? It's been a week, maybe two. You ever not found your way out of a building before?"

They were silent.

"I'm gonna grab a bite," Demetri said and hung up.