SHOUTOUTS:
Brownie - You're a spazz. And no, me'n Maxwell aren't coming to get you on a Monday night. That's RIDING, duh! That said, DU BIST WUNDERBAR! Because you are my first reviewer, und you actually have reviewed… which I have not.
Shiva - hehe… here's the update! I'm taking that as a note of interest! SIE SIND TOLL, weil you are my first outside of school reviewer! -purrs-
Chapter Three
The ride home was silent. Everything seemed silent then with Brian gone. I nearly gave up music entirely that first year after his suicide. Music had been Brian's thing. Mine too at first, but once Brian had touched something, caressed it with his excellence, it was his.
I had the note in hand all the way over; the book I had left at his grave. It was his after all. The quote was short; I could remember it without the book. Not that I knew what it was supposed to mean at that point. Garnet cast out demons? Brian was dead, Maxwell with him. I wished I was.
-+-
After checking out of the hotel, I reluctantly returned to the flat. There was a shitload of mail in the entryway, but I just kinda shoved it aside with my foot and went on. I had more important things to do than check out our outrageous bills for the month. Like figure out what the hell Brian was going on about the attic for in his note.
I went down the hallway to the back of the flat. Or the side. Whatever. You can imagine how the thing is laid out yourself; it doesn't really matter all that much. There were two doors, though. One at the bottom of the stairs to the attic and one at the top. The first one was unlocked, then I got all the way upstairs and found the second one wouldn't budge. Damn Brian. He had to make things difficult, didn't he? And I had no idea where that damn key would have been. I assumed they had come with the apartment, so who the hell knew where they'd been the last few months. I certainly didn't keep track of them.
Then again… the lock looked new. A lot newer than the other ones around the flat. They were antique, Brian had said. A lot of shit around this place was. Some of it I was afraid to even touch or use or sit on or whatever. But I still didn't have the key, new or not. So I headed back downstairs.
I must have torn that place apart looking for that damn thing. You'd think, with Brian being so neat, it would have been on the key rack, but I tried every damn one of them in the lock and none worked. So I started wrecking the place looking for where it might be hidden. I didn't have a system; I don't like order. Besides, Brian hadn't been following the rules of order this time around.
-+-
It got to be around midnight before I quit. I was getting hungry, not to mention fuckin' frustrated. So I called down to the front desk to get some food. It was a lot easier to send requests like that through the company that owned the flats. Or the people who worked for them, anyway.
"Hello, Vista Santa flats… this is Mr. Wild?"
"Yeah, it is."
"What can we do for you, sir?"
"Can you call somewhere and get me a pizza or something, send it up?"
"I can; just tell me what kind and where from. It's a bit late, isn't it, Mr. Wild?"
"Yeah, well. I was looking for a key all damn night."
"A key, sir?"
"Yeah, to the attic. Can't find it."
"Mr. Slade left a key here a the desk a few days before he left to…"
Oh Brian. So you were the logical one after all. I cut the man at the desk off.
"In that case, forget the pizza. Just bring up the key."
"Of course."
-+-
And a few minutes later, I had the key in hand, and I was alone again. Terrified again. You can't understand how really scary it is thinking about what a dead person could have left you locked in some secret attic. I decided it was going to be better to find out quick, just get it over with.