Theo was really starting to wish he hadn't come here.
At first he'd attempted to dance with Sam, which ended prematurely when they kept breaking down into helpless giggles. Only for Meg to swoop in and drag him all around the ballroom, more steering than leading, but despite her best efforts he kept stomping on her feet. That experience had left him out of breath and legs aching like he'd just finished a particularly brutal PE class.
Now he felt gross and sweaty inside the new suit, and the perfumed air and shrill string music made his head spin. He had no idea where the others had gone; all he could see was a crush of spinning, whirling costumed dancers.
What the hell was he even doing here? Darian was the only one of them doing actual work. Sam and Meg might be enjoying themselves, but big noisy social events like this were the very opposite of Theo's idea of a good time. Though he could have lived with it if they were playing I Write Sins Not Tragedies instead of those screechy strings.
Maybe he ought to find Zenith; Theo couldn't imagine the homunculus knight was enjoying himself either. But the ballroom seemed so overwhelmingly vast, not to mention filled with twirling dancers. It'd be hard to navigate without getting knocked around like a pinball.
Some fresh air to clear his head first. The glass doors at the back of the ballroom opened into the hotel's courtyard, where people were relaxing in the cool night or setting up impromptu photoshoots. At any rate, it was much less crowded.
So Theo didn't waste any time stepping outside. It was amazing how much better he felt just being out in the open and with that awful music muffled behind the glass. In contrast to the ostentatious ballroom, the courtyard had a serene kind of beauty, with its neatly trimmed hedges, still clear ponds, and softly glowing lights strung up in the trees.
Theo went to sit down on the nearest bench, but as he approached, he saw the person standing in front of the nearby pond. A man, tall and strongly built, wearing a black tuxedo.
Theo froze. What were the chances? He had his back turned, it could be anyone –
But even as he thought it, the man was turning around.
For the second time in a month, he stood within arm's reach of Victor. Just a few months ago, he could never have imagined it. But it didn't fill him with joy, just a slowly creeping dread. Even if he could touch Victor now, Victor was further away than he ever had been.
Victor didn't approach. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he said, "Hello, Theo."
"Hi, Victor," Theo managed to croak out. He mentally slapped himself; of all stupid things to say! Like they'd run into each other at the corner store instead of...instead of...
Possibly coming to blows? Terror dragged down Theo's stomach, heavy as a stone. No. Even if he'd prepared for the possibility –
"What are you doing here?" Victor's question cut through Theo's rising panic. It wasn't an accusation, just a neutral inquiry like asking about the weather.
Theo swallowed, trying in vain to find moisture in his mouth. "What...what are you?"
Victor's mouth might have twitched; in the dimness, it was hard to tell. "I'm Mr. Rose's assistant."
"A-assistant?"
"It's my job." Victor shrugged. "That he pays me to do. That's all."
"I...I see...." From prodigy cellist to Instagram model's assistant. Dad would have a heart attack if he ever found out, not that his opinion meant anything. No, what mattered was Theo had gotten more information.
Maybe Michel Rose was just Victor's employer and had nothing to do with the Infernal Legion. But that didn't explain why Sam had memories of him.
The whole reason they'd come here was to gather intel. Maybe Theo couldn't get it directly from Michel Rose himself, but he'd be a fool not to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Right. Think about it this way, that he was interrogating an Infernal Legion member instead of confronting his brother.
So he made himself ask, "Is he part of the Infernal Legion?"
"That's not for you to know." Though Victor's voice remained quiet, a new edge slid into it.
"He is, isn't he." Despite his best efforts, Theo couldn't keep the quiver out of his voice. "Victor, why? Why did you join them?"
No good; he'd already lost track of the plot. But he couldn't help it. Not when more and more memories of their last encounter resurfaced the longer he stood here. Victor savagely backhanding Zenith. Calling him a simple machine. Reaching his hand to Theo, promising to save him from his brainwashing....
"I already told you," Victor said. "To gain the power I need to keep you safe."
"Why? Here I thought you didn't give a shit about me," Theo blurted before he could stop himself. The bitter words burned his throat and flooded him with shame.
Victor's face remained impassive. "What makes you say that?"
"Isn't it obvious? You never said goodbye!" 'Stop! Just stop it!' But now that he had started, he couldn't stem the tide. All of it came spilling out, years' worth of twisted, resentful emotions that he had barely ever acknowledged to himself. "You never, never said goodbye. You never even looked at me. So how can you act like you care now?"
To his shame, tears stung his eyes. Theo furiously blinked them back, not wanting to cry while wearing a mask. Not wanting to look like even more of a loser in front of his brother, though it was probably too late for that.
"And – and – and when we were kids, I never got the impression that you cared," he kept babbling, shoulders trembling. His chest ached, twisted into a knot that felt impossible to unravel. "Always brushing me off 'cause you had to practice."
That was why the memories he did have, those magical afternoons in the forest, shone so brilliantly in his heart. Because they were so rare, so precious.
For a while, Victor didn't say anything. The distant strains of music and chatter of the partygoers drifted through the night air, but sounded like they came from impossibly far away. Theo couldn't take his eyes off his brother, heart squeezed so tight he felt like it would burst.
What should he do? He hadn't intended to say any of this, hadn't even realized he'd felt this way. Ranting at Victor wouldn't help gather information. And it wasn't fair to Victor either. Insanely enough, he almost wanted to apologize, but it seemed wrong when Victor was supposed to be the enemy.
It was torture, each second slipping past while Victor stood there like a statue. Theo couldn't detect anything from him, not even the slightest hint of an emotion. Inhuman, in a way Zenith never had been.
Just when he thought he couldn't take the silence anymore – just when he considered seriously apologizing – Victor spoke. "You're right, Theo."