“Fine,” I said. “It’s pointless, but whatever.”
“Thank you. Let me make you a drink.”
I shook my head. “I’ve had too many.”
“One more. Trust me.”
“If I puke, I ain’t cleaning.”
“Duly noted.” He kissed my lips and went to make me a drink, this time pouring from a bottle that wasn’t wine, but I didn’t care enough to ask what it was; I just wanted to get this over with.
“Here you go.” He placed a glass with a colorless drink in front of me. “You don’t have to drink it all.”
I raised the glass and took a sip, pleasantly surprised by the sweet flavor. “It’s nice.”
“Good.”
“I don’t know why you two are even friends,” I said before I could stop myself. “You’re much nicer.”
“That's true, but since he didn’t expect to meet you today, I did put him on the spot, which was unfair.”
“You didn’t tell him about the audition?” That made me even more confused, just when I thought I’d reached the end of my confusion.
He looked away. “It seems I overestimated my influence over him, but I’m not ready to give up. Come, let’s head back.”
I took two steps before feeling a mighty wave of dizziness. My heart also seemed to beat faster, growing louder in my ears.
“Something… something’s wrong.” My voice echoed in my head.
From behind, Eliot wrapped his arm around my chest. “Nothing’s wrong. Take deep breaths and walk slowly. It will pass soon.”
Not feeling like I had much choice, I continued walking. The sun hit me hard when I stepped outside, as if someone had cranked up the brightness. Eliot helped me back into my seat, where the shade from the house made it possible to reopen my eyes. Since I could now see The Director in front of me, I missed the blinding sun.
“Do you ever smile?” I asked.
“It does take a lot.” A trace of amusement touched the corner of his lips, or it might have been a stroke.
Eliot rested his hand on my shoulder. “Jonah is much more special than you think.”
“I doubt it. Eliot, I’m sorry, but whatever you’re trying to do—”
“Youknowwhat I’m trying to do.”
“Then come back.” It was the first time he raised his voice, showing any sort of emotion.
“I can never do that. Can you really ask me that?”
The Director looked away, his jaw tight. “You’re right. I’m happy you got out, but don’t expect this… child to be your replacement.” He glared at me as if I’d offended him by simply existing. “He’s a pale shadow of you.”
I would have been offended if being a pale shadow of Eliot wasn’t a lot.
“You’ve never been more wrong,” Eliot said, “but since I’ve missed you, we should stop arguing and talk about other things. For now.”
They went on to talk about an art exhibit Eliot had seen recently, while my brain felt like a spinning washing machine. I didn’t understand their conversion about me replacing Eliot, but I didn’t care enough to try deciphering it. I just waited for this man to skedaddle out of here and leave me alone with Eliot.
The mention of the name Rodin during their conversation caught my attention, piercing through the fog clouding my mind. “Rodin’s overrated,” I blurted.
The Director frowned at me. “You know of Auguste Rodin?”
