Clack, clack, clack, clack…

Ludwig climbed up the cold concrete steps of the underground, the hard heels of his shoes clacking loudly and echoing through the tunnel. He was dressed for work as a lowly office employee, with khaki slacks and a plain button-down shirt and tie. His blue eyes were tired and resigned. He was getting nowhere.

Every day was the same commute. Every day was the same work. Every day was the same people, the same conversations, the same barely adequate pay. He had submitted to a life of unfortunate mediocrity, and he hated it. He worked hard at everything he did, of course, but he hadn't had a raise in years, let alone a promotion.

Clack, clack, clack, clack…

He emerged into the light of the surface, the sounds of the city and people swallowing him whole. A cacophony of voices created humming background noise. He paid it little attention. He turned right, into the crowd, milling with the rest of the people. A woman with blonde hair beside him chattered on the phone about lunch plans. The black-haired man in front of him was trying to force his way through the crowd, though his endeavors were futile. A brunet in casual clothes leaned against the side of a building, seeming uninterested with the world around him like so many of these people.

Ludwig looked down for a moment, but then did a double take at the brunet. He was looking in Ludwig's direction. No, not just in his direction. He was making eye contact. How strange. Ludwig ducked his head and continued walking.

Clack, clack, clack, clack…

The talking and noises around him drowned out the clacking of his shoes, but he knew they were still making sound, contributing to the city's soundtrack. He came to an intersection and stopped at the red pedestrian signal. Cars blurred in front of him and caused gusts of city air and poisonous exhaust to drift into his face. This, too, he was used to.

He stared across the street and nearly jumped out of his skin. Standing on the opposite side was the brunet man. He was staring again, looking directly at him, but what spooked Ludwig the most was that he had somehow made it across the street before he did, even though he was sure the brunet had been standing still when he passed him…

People started walking past him, and he realized that the light must have turned green. He lifted his head to check before continuing safely. He found himself glancing back to where the brunet had been standing, but there was nobody there.

Ludwig shuddered involuntarily.

Clack, clack, clack, clack…

He was being processed, herded, like sheep to new pastures, or, on a more macabre note, cows to the slaughter. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one looking up. He wondered if he was the only one with a working brain to see that he was just wasting his life like everybody else.

He checked his watch as he arrived at his office building and opened the front door.

"Ludwig."

He tensed up, head slowly lifting to see the brunet standing in front of him. His eyes were an odd amber color. He was slight and rather short, but then again, Ludwig was five foot eleven. He couldn't deny the fact that the man had a fit build, a nice face, Italian features, but that was beside the point. This man was stalking him. He'd made it to his place of work, had been following him all this time, and even knew his name. There was no doubt in Ludwig's mind that this guy wanted something from him, and something told him it might not be good.

"How do you know my name?" Ludwig demanded, brows furrowing. The man only smiled and reached out his hand to touch Ludwig on the arm.

Suddenly, his feet weren't on the ground. There was nothing but white all around. All of the sounds and murmurs and background noise were gone, leaving a suffocating silence that made Ludwig's ears ring. It overwhelmed him. To his left, the man was holding onto Ludwig's arm with a serene smile.

"What have you done?!" Ludwig shouted, startled when his voice didn't reverberate, but rather got swallowed up by the silence. He was left gaping, but unable to speak.

He was fully convinced that this man had broken the universe.

The man put a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. "I can't hear you unless you speak softly," he whispered.

Ludwig scowled, but followed instructions. "Who are you? How did you do all this? How do you know my name?" he hissed, only mildly relieved that he could hear himself.

"I'm Feliciano," the man said quietly. "I can do this because I'm not like you. And I know your name because once, a long time ago in a very different place, we were friends."

Ludwig did not understand. He did not care to understand. He looked around frantically for an exit, but saw none. "I want out of here. I want to go back to work."

"No, you don't," Feliciano said. "You hate your work."

"How do you—?"

"You want to do important things," Feliciano continued. "You want to have control and respect and variation, but you can't because this is where you are."

Feliciano's words stabbed deep. It was true, but nobody had ever said it so bluntly, had ever been so correct about Ludwig's situation.

"That's why I'm here," Feliciano said.

"You're here because I'm miserable?" Ludwig asked dryly.

Feliciano laughed. It was a soft sort of lighthearted laugh that Ludwig kind of liked, though he would never admit it. "No, silly!" He paused. "Well… sort of. It's like an intervention."

"Interventions are for people with anger management issues and addictions," Ludwig stated. "I have neither of those."

"But you do, Ludwig! You're addicted to work, and it's hurting you!" Feliciano fretted quietly.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "I am not addicted. You just said I hated my work, which I do. How can I be addicted to something I hate?"

Feliciano hummed. "Maybe addicted wasn't the right word, but your work has become unhealthy for you." He reached up to cup Ludwig's face between his hands. "You work so hard, Ludwig. I want to help you."

Ludwig blushed and wanted to step back, but his feet touched nothing solid. He couldn't move. "How do you intend to help me, exactly?"

"I just want you to be able to relax. Take a break every once in a while. It would be good for you." Feliciano smiled "You could come with me to this place whenever you want. Time in your world doesn't change when you're here. You could be with me for hours on end and it wouldn't matter."

"You're crazy."

"It's true!"

"It's impossible!" Ludwig said, trying to raise his voice, but finding himself silenced and choking on his words again.

Feliciano simply sighed and kept smiling, albeit a bit sadly now. "Oh, Ludwig… I want you to understand." He leant forward and touched his forehead to Ludwig's. "I'll tell you what. I'll be waiting on the roof of this building every day for you. And if you ever want to come back here to get away, just come see me."

Ludwig frowned. He felt like everything was really happening, but he refused to believe it. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. "I want to go back to the real world, now," he said. "You can do that, can't you?"

There was silence from Feliciano.

"Can't you?" Ludwig repeated.

"Yes."

"Please do so. Now."

Silence reigned once again, and for a moment, Ludwig thought Feliciano had left him there.

He opened his eyes, and the outside world flooded his senses. He stood in the lobby of his place of work, the people milling around and working and talking in the background. He glanced at his watch and saw that no time had passed since… since whatever that was… had happened.

Feliciano was nowhere to be found.

Ludwig stood still and made a mental note to have lunch on the roof that afternoon.