Annabelle paused, her eyes narrowing as realization set in.
"You are the male tenant?"
Alexander did not reply. Instead, he offered a gentle smile and stepped back.
"It was nice meeting you, Anna. I'll see you tomorrow."
With that, he left the balcony and disappeared into his room. Annabelle remained rooted to the spot, still a little stunned by the recent revelation. Reflexively, she called after him.
" it was nice meeting you too."
Her brow furrowed as she suddenly asked, "Wait, how did you know my name?"
Turning toward his door, she realized he was already gone. Shaking her head, she began packing up her things before retreating to her own room.
'How did he know?'
...
The next morning, Annabelle stepped out of her room and found Alex training in the courtyard. She quietly took a seat on the small stool and observed him. His movements were fluid, his form was impeccable, and his focus unwavering. After a few minutes, he straightened, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Noticing her gaze, he turned toward her.
"What?" he asked.
Annabelle hesitated, her eyes lingering a moment too long on his chiseled abs before she finally looked up.
"You didn't answer my question yesterday," she said. "How did you know my name? I remember having never told you."
Alex rolled up the cloth he had spread on the ground and a smirk formed on his face.
"It pays to use your brain sometimes, you know? Old Jeffrey's not mute. He's can be quite the chatterbox, if you ask me."
"So, that means it was Jeffrey who told you," Annabelle said, her voice solemn. But after a moment, her cheeks reddened. "Still, did you have to say it like that?" she added bashfully.
Alex chuckled. "Get over yourself. Right from the far ancient ages when the concept of courtesy was discovered, It is a gentleman's duty to tease beautiful ladies. Any man who does not fulfill that duty is no man at all, he is just a boy."
"You jest. Since when has that ever been the case?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Since just now, my sweet Anna."
"That's it! I've had enough of you!" she exclaimed, grabbing a small piece of broken wood and throwing it at him.
The wood flew straight for his head, but with a smooth turn, Alex caught it mid-air and tossed it onto a pile of rocks.
Annabelle gasped. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it to hurt you."
Alex picked up a small broken rock from the pile and sat on it, using it as a makeshift stool.
"No offense taken," he said. "But I'd like to ask you something."
"What is it?"
"Why did you come here? To this place. Why Ten Mill Town?"
Her eyebrows shot up as she regarded him suspiciously. "What's it to you?"
He didn't flinch, his expression serious.
"Just answer the question. Consider it my compensation for you trying to maim me earlier."
"I didn't try to maim—" she started defensively, but his unwavering gaze made her pause. With a sigh, she relented.
"Alright, I'll tell you. I came here to follow my dream of becoming a famous artist. Staying in the village offered no such opportunities."
Alex leaned back, his tone contemplative. "But you could've lived a happy life in the village. Farm some crops, raise goats, maybe get married. It's a simpler, better life than being here. This town has proven itself to be a hungry beast. It devours anyone that comes to this place vwith a spark of passion, leaving them hollow—a part of the beast, always searching for more prey."
Annabelle stood and gazed out at the fields beyond the balcony, her expression pensive. After a moment, she turned back to him.
"I understand what you're saying," she said softly. "But wouldn't it be worse to live in regret? To never even try?"
Alex nodded, standing as well. He tossed the towel onto the rock and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on with ease. Then, picking up his coat, he glanced back at her.
"I have business to attend to, so I'll be leaving. I'll be back this evening."
"Okay," Annabelle replied. "Have a nice day."
With a small bow, Alex walked out of the courtyard. Just as he passed through the door, his voice whispered faintly.
"It would've been better if you'd stayed in the village."
.......
A large building loomed amidst the bustling crowd. The roof and floors bore the marks of wear, but the glass panes making up most of its walls gleamed spotless. Behind the glass, a collection of artworks stood on display—paintings and a few charcoal sketches scattered throughout.
At one side of the building, a petite young girl with brown hair stood admiring the art.
Annabelle's eyes sparkled as she took in the paintings, her heart swelling with admiration. A fiery resolve bubbled within her.
'One day, my work will be here too,' she vowed silently.
"Magnificent, aren't they?"
The voice startled her. Annabelle turned to see a tall, lean man with a pockmarked face smiling at her.
He stepped closer, gesturing toward the glass. "These pieces belong to some of the most renowned artists. The town government displays them here to honor their legacy. All of them came through Ten Mill Town at some point. Maybe, they could inspire you to create something of this level."
Annabelle blinked in surprise. "How did you know I'm an artist?"
The man chuckled. "It's no special skill. When you've been in this town long enough, you notice things. No one but an artist would spend ten minutes staring at these paintings. Well, artists and the rich, but rich folks prefer to admire paintings in the comfort of their homes."
"Is that so?"
The man extended his hand. "I'm Sherbet. I'm an artist too. Helping newcomers like you find their footing is something of a hobby of mine."
Annabelle hesitated, then took his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Sherbet. I'm Annabelle."
...
In a shadowy corner of the town, a dingy bar reeked of grime and decay. Inside, two men sat at a table, their features obscured by the darkness barely affected by the dim lamp hanging in the corner. Behind one of the men, three figures loomed silently.
"So, Mouse," the man with the entourage spoke, his tone laced with mockery. "Do you accept the deal?"
"No," 'Mouse' replied flatly.
The silence stretched before the first man stood abruptly. In one fluid motion, he drew a pistol and aimed it at 'Mouse'.
"You were not given a choice, Mouse."