Chapitre 9: Chapter 9 Fire.
"What did you think about the play, Brian?" Chloe asks, her gaze shifting from the now-closed scarlet curtain to the young man beside her.
Brian's eyes remain fixed on the spot where the velvet drapes had concealed the stage. His hands are clasped tightly together, thumbs rubbing absently against his palms. "The dancing, the music..." he responds absentmindedly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was a good show."
Chloe leans in slightly, her expression hopeful. "It was breathtaking, wasn't it?"
Brian finally meets her gaze, nodding curtly. "It was." He rubs at his brow, glancing back towards the booth's opulent furnishings. "It was nice to meet you, ma'am, but I think I should be getting home. It's late."
As Brian moves to stand, Chloe's hand reaches out, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "There will be a dance after the show," she offers, a thin smile playing at her lips. "Perhaps you'd like to attend? Even if just for a bit."
Brian feels a flutter of butterflies in his stomach, his throat tightening at the invitation. He hesitates, considering her offer, before giving a quick nod. "Yeah, sure. Maybe just for a bit."
As the two make their way towards the ornate ballroom, Brian's eyes are immediately drawn upwards to the magnificent chandelier floating effortlessly in the air. The telltale V carved into the gold-coated frame reveals it to be a Vishkar Corporation product, the hard light candles flickering softly.
"Why don't you look around a bit?" Chloe suggests, gesturing to the lavishly decorated space. "Maybe dance a little, or pick at some of the expensive finger food on the tables."
Brian scans the room, his breath coming a bit shallow as he surveys the well-dressed crowd. He sighs, glancing off towards a table set with a shimmering champagne fountain, the white tablecloth pristine.
"You're leaving?" he asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"Just going to visit my friend," Chloe replies. "Maybe I could introduce you two?"
Brian raises a hand, offering a small smile. "Sure, I'll just wait over there."
With a reassuring wave, Chloe departs, leaving the curious young man to explore the opulent ballroom on his own. Brian shuffles towards the champagne table, his eye taking in the colors of the various paintings on the walls. Though initially overwhelmed by the grandeur, a sense of familiarity begins to arise as classical music began to be played.
As he stands amid the lavish surroundings, Brian can't help but feel a bit out of place. His eyes darted from art piece to piece of furniture hesitant to fully intermingle in the elegant crowd. But the allure of the slow waltzing dancers and the promise of exotic foods holds a certain appeal for the young man.
Brian's eyes slowly drift up from the tile floor as Chloe returns, her voice calling out. But the moment his gaze lands on the woman beside her, he freezes, every muscle in his body tensing.
Staring into a pair of familiar hazel eyes, Brian feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The glass in his right hand tightens to the point of nearly cracking under his white-knuckled grip, his posture rigid as adrenaline surges through his veins.
There is a profound recognition in those hazel eyes, a mirrored worry and unease that instantly sets Brian on edge. The woman's expression remains neutral, but her gaze grows clouded.
Instinctively, Brian sticks out his hand, his arm extended in a gesture of greeting. waiting for the woman to take it.
Amelie's face changes, and she jumps slightly as the hand approaches her. Brian scans her expression, noting the worry that creeps into the corners of her mouth, her eyes darting away before making tentative eye contact with him.
"Have you two met?" Chloe asks, breaking the silence.
Brian feels the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as Amelie's cold hand takes his, giving it a gentle shake. "No, we haven't. It's nice to meet you, ma'am," he replies, the quirk of his lips suggesting a subtle unease about the woman's touch.
Amelie's eyes widen, and she glances towards Chloe before clearing her throat. "Bonjour. My name is Amelie. I played Swanhilda," she says, her tone measured and formal.
"I, uh, noticed you...danced well," Brian responds, his eyes flitting from Amelie's face down to the floor as the two awkwardly avoid prolonged eye contact.
An uncomfortable silence settles over the trio, the undercurrent of tension palpable. Chloe shifts her weight, sensing the need for privacy. "Should I give you two a moment?" she asks, her tone gentle but probing.
Brian shifts his weight to his other foot his emotions clearly at odds with the strange familiarity he senses from Amelie.
Amelie, in turn, seems guarded, her eyes avoiding meeting his yet she looked instead to his right arm and he understood what she was focused on.
Amelie's eyes narrow slightly as she drags her finger along the rim of her champagne glass, a hint of amusement and curiosity passing over Chloe's features. "A moment would be nice... Chloe," she states, the therapist giving a knowing look towards Brian before clicking her tongue and departing.
The moment they are alone, Amelie's demeanor shifts, her expression turning accusatory. "What are you doing here?" she asks, the edge in her voice taking Brian aback.
"What?" he responds, caught off-guard.
"If you plan to shame me or expose me, do it already." Amelie continues, a cold mask settling over her features.
Brian pauses, searching for the right words. "I- I'm not here to do all that. I was given the tickets and I wanted to see the show. I didn't know you would be here."
The dancer's icy gaze lingers, making Brian feel as if he's under a microscope. "And you just happened to run into my friend and come to meet me?"
Raising his hands defensively, Brian tries to explain. "I didn't know she was your friend. We shared a booth, and she invited me to the dance. I just... " He trails off, a vulnerable tone creeping into his voice. "I didn't think you'd remember me. I thought I'd forgotten you."
Amelie studies his face, searching for any hint of deception. After a moment, she looks away. "what do you want?"
"I don't want anything from you." Brian responds instantly.
"What?" Amelie questions, her brow furrowing.
The young man meets her gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "I... I'm just glad to see you're alright."
Amelie's expression suddenly hardens, and she shakes her head. "Am I supposed to believe that the man I tried to kill is just here for the dancing?" Her tone is accusatory, tinged with disbelief. "What do you want, money?"
Brian raises his hands defensively. "No, I don't want anything from you. I'm serious. I saw a billboard for the show, and I got the tickets as a gift. I really just wanted to see it. I don't want any problems!"
He whispers the last part emphatically, his brow furrowed in distress. Amelie's eyes narrow, her frustration evident.
"Dites la vérité, je n'ai pas de temps à perdre avec les menteurs," she says sharply, her words laced with impatience.
Brian's grip tightens around the glass as Amelie's suspicious, almost lethal gaze fixes upon him, a flash of recognition passing over her features. "Amelie," he says, her name spoken with a weighted significance that gives her pause.
"I-I've been bothered by what happened for a long time," Brian continues, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I don't constantly think about it, and in the end, I came out in one piece. But it's stuck in my mind for a long, long time. And I just want to be past it. I'd just like to leave it all behind, so please..."
He extends his hand in a gesture of reconciliation, his eyes pleading. "I don't want to have to live life knowing that there's someone out there who could be going through the same thing. You obviously want to leave all that behind, and anyone who would go so far to hide themselves from the past obviously wants to move on. So please, I don't want you to think I don't forgive you for all that..."
Amelie's gaze shifts, her expression softening fractionally as she looks down at the outstretched hand. After a moment's hesitation, her brow furrows
""Your forgiveness means nothing to me, you're just here to play games and toy with me, I see through you."
Brian's brow furrows slightly, the tension in his shoulders rising a fraction as he frowns towards her.
His eyes dart towards Chloe who sits alongside another older gentleman. His eyes turn to Amelie and his eyes soften a smidge.
"Why did you start dancing?" Brian asks, the unexpected question causing Amelie's eyes to widen.
The former ballerina seems taken aback, her guarded demeanor giving way to a thoughtful expression. She pauses, considering the question.
"I..." Amelie begins, her gaze drifting away as memories surface. "I started dancing as a child." She looks down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if recalling the feel of the barre beneath them.
"My parents encouraged it," she continues, her voice quiet. "They saw it as a way for me to express myself..." Amelie trails off, the anger fading as a shadow passes over her features.
Brian watches her intently, his own curious expression open and free of judgment. He sensed a pain behind Amelie's words.
"It became my passion," Amelie finally says, meeting Brian's gaze. "The stage, the performance." She pauses, a flicker of the Widowmaker resurfacing. "Until that... was taken from me." Brian nods slowly.
"So how long have you been doing what others have told you?"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone