A Certain Romance

chapter 1

"Alright, everyone pay attention for a moment."

The sudden clapping hands and booming voice of Scott nearly caused me to jump out of my skin. I was always nervous. But today I was twice as bad as usual. It was a really big day for us.

I hadn't slept, as anyone could tell by the dark circles under my eyes. I wouldn't have eaten anything either, but Jonny made me. He told me it wasn't good for my health to skip meals. So I obediently swallowed a couple pieces of toast under his watchful eye. As soon as he left my apartment to join the others, I threw it up.

I didn't get to the Garage until at least an hour after everyone else had already arrived. Nobody was too pleased about that, I could tell. Guy kept giving me dirty looks from across the room. But I knew none of them would say anything. They were already worried enough about me as it was.

If you ask me, it wasn't my fault I was late. Everyone had been stressing for weeks how important this night was for us. Scott had warned us time and time again that this would likely be our one and only chance. So we were to make the best impression possible. Nothing could be out of place. If even one thing was a tiny bit off, the wrong comment or the wrong hair style or the wrong brand of shoes, we'd be rejected instantly.

Thus, I spent an agonizing forty-five minutes trying to decide on what to wear. Guy always liked to make fun of my wardrobe. I once mentioned this to Jonny. He didn't say anything. He just gave me a look. So I knew Guy must've been right. Thus, I dragged Jonny along with me the next day to try and find some more acceptable clothing.

Of course, Jonny brought Guy along. It bothered me even then. He was pushy and rude and criticized all my choices. Jonny would just shrug and shoot me sympathetic looks. Those glances were the only thing that allowed me to get through that wretched afternoon without resorting to physical violence.

Eventually I did manage to find some decent clothes that even Guy approved of. But as it turned out, this would make things even harder on me. Because on the morning of the big day, all I could do was sit on my bedroom floor amidst piles of clothes, trying desperately to decide on a suitable outfit to wear.

The white silk shirt was too dressy. The dark wash jeans looked out of place somehow with my ridiculously light skin. The dress shoes were just snobby.

Finally I decided on a crisp blue shirt with a dark blue blazer and these horribly uncomfortable skinny jeans that Guy had forced me to buy. I decided I'd go with the new black and white converse that had also been forced upon me to complete the outfit. Luckily, actually getting dressed only took me five minutes.

None of that stuff was really my style. But at least, I thought, the shirt would look bring out the blue in my eyes. Jonny always used to tell me blue shirts really emphasized the blue of my eyes. I was hoping he'd tell me that the whole ten minute walk to the Garage. But when I entered, all I got was a distracted wave from him and a frown from Guy.

I did get a genuine smile and hello from Will though. Lately Will had been extra nice to me. My pessimistic side told me he was just doing it for the sake of the group. But I knew better. For one reason or another Will was legitimately sympathetic to my plight.

No sooner had I entered the space than the door to the tiny back room, which we had single handedly converted into an office, swung open and Scott walked out, mumbling to himself as he stared at a clipboard, likely holding the evening's schedule.

He looked at it intently for a long time, biting his lip, which I knew always meant he was concentrating hard on something. Occasionally he would remove a pencil from behind his ear and make a note of something or other.

I thought he'd start rattling off instructions right away, be he remained silent for a long time, leaving me to my thoughts. This was never a good thing. I sat in one of the old beat up chairs with the faded and tearing upholstery.

Guy claimed they really contributed in brightening up the place. I thought they added to its gloom. The furniture was probably older than the Garage itself, and it had been standing for nearly a century now. It looked ready to crumble, and I hoped that wasn't a metaphor for our little group.

When Scott finally did call us to attention, I had gone over every single worry of mine multiple times, trying desperately to work myself through each one. I hadn't had much success. And the shock of Scott's sudden noise undid any progress I might have made with myself.

"You guys know the deal tonight?"

We all nodded, having converged to the center of the room, forming something like a circle around Scott.

"Now, I know I don't need to tell you this....but you've got to remember how important this is. Not for me, but for you. Each and every one of you. This is your big night. So please, for the love of all that is good, don't blow it!"

Even thought he looked at us all, I felt like he was staring directly at me the whole time. Eye contact had always made me anxious. Instinctively, I reached out to grab Jonny's hand. Only to grab Guy's hand by mistake, forgetting that Jonny no longer stood right beside me anymore.

"What are you doing?" he whispered between clenched teeth.

"Sorry," I said meekly, releasing my grip immediately. Simultaneously, I made the mistake of looking over and seeing Jonny's hand grasping tightly onto Guy's other one. I felt my stomach lurch and had to fight back tears that formed in my eyes. The only thing that saved me was Will. He was standing next to me and he seemed to be able to sense just what I was going through. He gently touched my arm.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered. And for the first time in possibly my life, I actually came close to believing those words.


chapter 2


I peered out from behind the shade that covered the glass of my thick wooden door. I flung it back angrily and sighed. It wasn't even dusk yet, but they were already arriving by the dozens. They were eager. Too eager.

Each one of the guys had clearly spent hours trying to make sure they looked like they just rolled out of bed and didn't care what they looked like. I don't know who they thought they were fooling every evening, but it certainly wasn't me.

Each and every girl had spent just as much time on her own appearance to ensure that we all thought of them as pretty little made up Barbie dolls, waxed and cut and styled and dyed to perfection. And don't even get me started on their makeup. They
might as well have been circus performers.

But what did I care? All I had to do was sit around, give orders, make an appearance every now and then. And they'd stay happy. They could continue on with their pathetic lives. They could go on thinking they were so much better than the general populous.

I gave them that right. Or, more accurately, I gave them the idea that the right was theirs. The right to boast and brag. Even then, all those years after I first got the idea, it never ceased to amaze me how easily people fell for it. How simple it was to convince them that this was where it was at.

This was the ticket to their happiness, the solution to all their problems. All they had to do was dress a certain way, act a certain way, and suddenly they were at the top of the heap instead of smothered on the bottom.

I laughed to myself and reached over the edge of my brand new leather futon to take my favorite wineglass gingerly between three fingers and bring it to my lips. Just then the door was rudely flung opened, and my assistant came charging in, her pace not at all hindered by her tight satin pencil skirt or her four inch heels. I held the glass to my lips, frozen where I was, expecting a lecture.

"Julian, it's getting crazy out there. Word has gotten out about the potential new recruits. It seems no one wants to miss this."

I sighed. "Of course not. They want in to watch in amusement as some of their fellow humans get critiqued and criticized. They want to see others go through the same trials they had t go through themselves."

"Being cynical today, are we?"

"No more than usual," I told her, taking another sip form the crystal glass.

"Is that vodka you're drinking!?" She shook her head in a way that I knew I was supposed to find sweet. I found it more annoying that anything. "You shouldn't be drinking that stuff now! You have an appearance to make in just a few hours."

I waved away her false concerns for me. "Don't worry about it. I can hold my liquor, honey." I know she didn't hear, or chose to ignore, the sarcasm in my voice. I placed the glass back on the table and smirked at her. She snidely smiled back and flipped her long blonde hair. I leaned back on the futon, my arms behind my head, and closed my eyes, doing my best not to show my distaste for the facade she always put on around me.

I didn't want her to get upset. Because an offended woman will either do one of two things: cry, and force you to be a man and spend hours consoling her, or bitch you out until you have a headache that not even the worst hangover could ever bring on.

I knew me laying there like I was would fluster her enough to make her want to leave. Women are only competent when they feel in control of the situation. Otherwise they will cut their losses and try again another day.

"Okay well I'm going to go back out there and see if I can get that crowd into any kind of order. You sit there and hope and pray that the alcohol has sufficiently left your system by recruiting time. And you might want to put a shirt on while you're at it."

Slowly, I lifted my head up and crossed my arms. "I'll see what I can do," I told her, winking before remembering that she wouldn't be able to see the gesture behind my dark sunglasses.

But all the same, I saw her blush and I was glad for my sunglasses now; I could roll my eyes without anybody knowing I was doing so. "Be careful out there, Rosemary," I cautioned her. "They'll do anything to ensure themselves good spot for tonight's show."

She hugged the binder she was carrying closer to her chest and smiled in a way I was clearly supposed to find highly attractive. Then she winked. God knows why. I guess that was supposed to turn me on. I just yawned. I didn't have the energy for this anymore.

"If you need any help just see Ramon and I'm sure he'll be glad to take care of it for you."

"Oh don't worry, I can handle it myself." Then she flipped her hair again and turned on her bright red heels and was gone, much to my relief.

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding in and lay sideways across the futon, my legs dangling over the edge. I grumbled about the length of the piece of furniture; nothing was ever large enough for my tall stature.

I tried to think about the coming events and the part I had to play in them. But the mere thought of making an appearance in front of all those people, let alone a bunch of new recruits with wide, all-too-innocent eyes, exhausted me. Before I knew it, I had managed to fall into a deep sleep, despite the uncomfortable position I was in, the best sleep I had gotten in weeks.


Chapter 3

When we pulled up in front of the place, it didn't look how I remembered it. There were no crowds of people fighting for a chance to make it inside. Apparently all of those people had made it inside already. Well, almost all of them.

There will still a few hopefuls who stood off to the side of the door, shivering in the nighttime air, horribly underdressed for the time of year. They all stared at us with wide eyes as we made our way to the door.

Scott couldn't go inside with us, it wasn't allowed. So he stayed back in the car. But even without him around, I still felt his presence, and remembered to keep my shoulders back and my head high, which Scott always told us was the posture of a confident person.

It was essential that we look confident tonight, even if we all knew that none of us really felt that way. It was probably the most essential aspect of our image as a group. If we wanted to be accepted here, we had to look the part. And confidence oozed from every inch of this place.

From outside, we could hear that it was rowdy inside. We heard a combination of chatter, laughter, and strange music that none of us were accustomed to. This made me extremely nervous. Could we really learn to create music we had never once heard in our lives until now, and knew nothing about?

But as soon as we entered the building, a hush fell on it and everyone was silent. The music played for a little while longer, but finally someone had the decency to turn it off and save everyone the additional feeling of awkwardness.

I felt hundreds of eyes on me, and I could feel my face getting red. I tried my best to fight it though, and I stood tall amidst their scrutinous eyes. Suddenly the crowd parted, and a beautiful women made her way through the people.

She stopped a few feet in front of us and tapped one red heel three times on the hard floor, as if we were somehow not already taking notice of her. Then she cleared her throat, which I thought was altogether unnecessary. But I certainly wasn't in a place to judge.

"My name, for any of you who don't already know," she said, looking directly at us, "is Rosemary. Most of you have seen me around. I help out the boss. I keep his organization as organized and clean cut as possible. Which means....." she added, dragging out her words for emphasis, "no riff-raff." She nodded as to say "that's that". Then she took a couple of steps forward and came closer to us.

With every click of her heel, I could feel my body stiffening. I wasn't nervous anymore. I was terrified. What if we put forth all this effort just to get rejected right away? Finally, the dreaded noise of shoes on floor stopped.

We all stood as tall and straight as we could. I resisted the urge to obsessively play around with my shirt sleeves or straighten my blazer. I felt her roving eyes on me. I thought she'd never look away, and her retinas would slowly eat away at my matter until I dissolved.

But finally her eyes turned away from me, and from all of us. She turned to face the crowd. Without meaning to, I stole a glance at Jonny, at the same time he decided to briefly shift his eyes towards me. It had always been that way between us. But now there was no deeper meaning behind Jonny's glance.

Rosemary made a wide, dramatic gesture with her arm. She cleared her throat yet again to draw attention to herself. "These men," she began, and I tensed, my jaw clenched, waiting for the worst, "have been found physically appealing by the standards of the House of Noise. They will now proceed to mingle with the crowd, as they look to pass stage two of the initiation."

She spoke of the crowd as if it were a separate entity from whom she was already speaking to. But this was only a brief, passing thought of mine. Because my next stream of thoughts were focused solely on my extreme relief, and something that might have even been considered joy.

Joy, for me, at that moment in time, was something rarer and more precious than a diamond. But unlike a diamond, it was not resilient and it did not last. I swallowed and clenched my sweaty hands into fists as I remembered what stage two entailed.

I remembered Scott's words specifically. I could hear them echoing off the walls of the Garage right now. "Stage two will entail of a detailed examination of your abilities to socialize and interact with general populous that makes up the elite group of people who are fortunate enough to be part of the House of Noise."

The House of Noise was quite fond of reminding us lesser folks just how fortunate we were to be getting this chance. And the people who were already members never failed to remind us just how privileged they were to have received the chance.

Not that we saw any of them much. In fact, this was the first time I had seen any HON members in weeks. The Hons generally liked to keep themselves separate from the general population. And no wonder too. We were all trivial beings compared to the likes of them. My parents had reminded me of this daily when I was a boy, and it wasn't something you were allowed to forget.

But now, as improbable as it was, I was standing here amongst hundreds of Hons, waiting for my own chance to be a part of this superior class of people. And in just a few moments I would have to begin chatting with them like they were close neighbors I had known all my life. It was almost too much to bear.

But yet, when Rosemary clapped her hands and the strange music started back up, our cue to being mingling with the crowd, I felt like I was ready. After all, I had gotten this far; I wasn't going to give up now.


chapter 4

I was dreaming. I was that sad little boy on the street corner begging for money. It was always that corner, in my dreams. There had been many corners just like it over the years, but this one was special and my subconscious knew it.

It was the place where I received my first dose of friendly human contact in the form of ridicule. Things had started off okay. I had my cap, the one I always used for collecting spare change, and I had my guitar. I looked ridiculous playing it, small as I was, but I was still pretty good despite my young age.

I had already received as few dollars that day. It was a Sunday. People were always friendlier when they didn't have anywhere to rush off to. Whenever I spotted someone in the distance, walking my way, I would begin to diligently pluck the strings and produce a semi decent sound.

It was around noon, and the sun was beating down on me. I saw my next potential donors coming down the sidewalk. A mother and her young son. He looked to be around my age. I quickly picked up my old guitar and stated playing with vigor, my hair (badly in need of a trim) beginning to stick to my face, wet with sweat from the heat of the afternoon.

I was never sure why I was trying so hard for that boy and his mother. I think it was more for the boy. As he got closer to me, I could see intelligence in his eyes. And somehow, despite the obvious differences in our situation, I felt a connection towards him.

A few mores seconds passed and the boy was standing right beside me, one hand tightly gripping his mother's and the other holding a shiny quarter. We locked eyes, and he smiled at me. Then he had reached over to try and drop the quarter into my hat, pulling his mother's arm in the process.

She had never stopped walking, but now stopped and turned to see what the fuss was. Her eyes widened when she saw me sitting there. It seemed she had not noticed my presence before. "What are you doing!?" she had incredulously asked the boy, who was still attempting to leave me the quarter.

"I'm just giving this nice boy my quarter," he told her.

"Nice!?" she exclaimed, as if this were the last thing she would ever call me. "This boy is scum. I will not have you squander your money on such a worthless excuse for a human being."

"But he plays the guitar real good," responded the boy, as if this would reverse generations of teachings about social class that his mother had surely been taught since she was younger than me.

"This is what people like us think of guitar playing like that," she told him, and then it happened. She spit on me. Every time I reached this part in the dream, I would feel myself cringe in my sleep. I did so this time as well. On this occasion I could even feel a wet spot on my cheek where the spit had landed.

The spot grew until my whole face felt wet. That's when I knew I wasn't dreaming it. My eyes flew open to see Rosemary standing above me, a now empty glass in her hand. I groaned loudly. I didn't need this tonight.

"Get up," she ordered.

I could tell by her tone that she meant business. She'd drag me off the futon if need be. "Get me a towel," I growled between clenched teeth.

"Already got it covered," she said, tossing it onto my face.

I dried myself off, then flung it on the floor and sat up. "What is it with you tonight?"

"Me? What's wrong with you? I haven't seen you go to sleep a minute before three in the morning since I've known you."

"Well maybe you should get to know me a little better," I muttered, too quiet for her to hear. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get your ass out there," she retorted. "The new recruits are mingling as we speak. You don't want to miss this."

"Don't I?" I snidely replied. I thought for a moment. "They made it past stage one?"

"Surprisingly....yes," she replied. "They looked immaculate, and they radiated confidence. I had no choice but to approve."

I laughed. "Well the crowd will shatter their confidence, I'm sure."

"Absolutely," she replied, but she didn't look so sure. Maybe this would be interesting after all, I thought.

"I'll be out in five," I told her.

She looked at me skeptically, but left without another word. As soon as she was gone, I stood and stretched. I kept it in mind to find a bed the next time I wanted a nap. Futons were not as comfortable as they appeared.

I walked across the room and opened the sliding door to my closet. I pulled out a plain white t-shirt and then plucked my beloved leather jacket from its special spot. I put them on then turned to inspect my appearance in the full length mirror that had been hung from one of the walls of the large closet.

I combed my dark hair with my fingers, and considered removing my sunglasses. But I never felt quite right without them, so I left them where they were. Inconspicuously, I opened the door just enough to squeeze out and into the main room. I just stood outside the door for a moment, reveling in the permanent darkness of the back of the room which allowed me to stand there and go unnoticed.

But I soon tired of that, and I snuck up closer to the hub of people to grab a chair for myself. Once I had one, I wasted no time in sitting in it and watching my Hons with fondness. I sat back, crossed my arms, and brought one leg up to rest on the knee of the other. This would be good for a laugh, if nothing else.


chapter 5

I hesitated at first. There were so many options. So many faces to choose from. Who would be my first social interaction of the night? Everyone looked immaculate. Despite having passed the first stage, I still felt I was dressed far inferior. But I wouldn't let that get me down, I couldn't.

My eyes roved around the room. Finally I settled on a sharply dressed man with gold rimmed glasses and blonde hair carefully styled with what looked like half a bottle of hair gel. He was holding a glass of champagne and laughing and joking with a couple of women decked out in sparkly dresses.

But I set my sights on him alone. I didn't like women so much. They made me uncomfortable, at the very least, and they I usually found them to be both intimidating and rude. I never knew what to say to them, and they had never seemed particularly interested in me. So I kept my eye on that one man.

I stepped towards him slowly but surely, wary of the many people around me, most of whom also had drinks perched precariously in between two or three of their fingers, and were waving them around in a most dangerous manner.

Finally I was within speaking distance of him. I gave him my best smile, then my name, and somehow started up a great conversation. He seemed content to chat with me, at least for a while. He was a funny man. I laughed at almost all of his jokes, and it was a genuine, hearty kind of laughter.

But after hearing a little of that, he got a strange expression on his face. Then he told me he had to go find a good friend he hadn't spoken with in ages. The two girls he had been talking with earlier followed him, and I was left to stand alone.

Funny, I had never thought I would be able to describe myself as feeling alone in a place with this many people. But standing there, I had never felt the emotion so strongly since I had lost Jonny. But I did my best not to let it get to me. It was surely a result of my acute paranoia. I was not alone here, not by any means.

I sought out my next victim, and laughed to myself for that choice of words. I had several more decent conversations that night. But they all ended the same way. It was disheartening to say the least. I felt my crippling nervousness begin to creep back. I couldn't screw this night up for us all; I wouldn't dare.

I decided that I really had to make this next conversation count. I would use everything I had. Every bit of charm, every ounce of people skills that were stored in my brain. Now I only had to find the lucky person to receive all of my pleasantness and charisma.

I scanned the room. For some reason, I told myself to look for someone who seemed particularly special. Everyone at the House of Noise was special, of course, but I made it my goal to locate someone who seemed especially unique.

I looked around the room for over a minute, and was beginning to panic, fearing I would look ridiculous just standing around. But then I finally spotted him. The perfect person for me to strike up a conversation with.

He wasn't standing, like the rest of them. He wasn't even mingling, and this baffled me. No, he was simply sitting at the back of the room. Observing? Sleeping? I couldn't tell. He was wearing dark shades despite being indoors in a dimly lit room.
Caught up in their own conversations, no one else in the room seemed to have noticed his presence but me. This made me happy. It meant I'd get first crack at chatting with this rather strange man.

I edged my way through the crowd as inconspicuously as possible. I didn't want anyone else to get the same idea I had. Once I had made it through the main throng of people, I lengthened my stride and held my head up high.

I smiled widely as I approached him, and it wasn't at all fake. I couldn't tell if he saw me or not, so I tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Hello," I said brightly. "I'm....well you probably already know I'm one of the new recruits. I'll bet it's pretty obvious. I must say, it's really an honor for me to be here. This place has an amazing aura."

As soon as I spoke I knew it was a mistake, but I couldn't stop. Something just compelled me to keep going on and on, making a complete and utter fool of myself, until the man tipped his sunglasses down, giving me a quick view of his eyes. They looked stunned.

"Are you the leader of your group?" His voice was deep and raspy, as if he were one step away from unconsciousness.

"Well, I suppose you could say that, but I've never really viewed it that way. We're all in this together, after all."

His mouth curled upwards, and it was such a subtle gesture that I couldn't tell whether it was a mocking smirk or a genuine smile. "I don't know what to make of you. But since you are the most interesting person that I've come across in years, I think I'm going to humor you for now."

I grinned widely. "Thanks."

He mumbled something that I couldn't decipher, then told me to pull up a chair. "Tell me about yourself," he said, as if he was interviewing me for a job. I sat beside him and did just that.

There was something about him that spoke to me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was going to be my way in with the Hons. I listened to those subconscious thoughts, though I didn't yet know just how true they would prove to be.


chapter 6

Through my dark lenses, everything was a blur. A mesh of shadowy figures that would take shape as humans now and again when they threw their heads back with exaggerated laughter or walked off to join another circle of people. Occasionally the bright strobe lights would flash and allow me a brief view of some of their faces, bathed in shades of green, red, or blue.

I tapped one finger subtly on the arm of my chair to the beat, the music moving me without any consent from myself. It had always been that way. Music had a way of controlling me. And while I had been taught to create a kind of barrier against that kind of thing way back when I was being trained for my current position, the music would still manage to find little cracks in my defense, where it would firmly lodge itself and, in small ways, force me to do its bidding.

It was impossible to tell where the newbies were exactly, but I inferred that they would be in the middle of the largest crowds of people. No one would give up this kind of opportunity, it was something that would normally occur in the House of Noise once, maybe twice, in their lifetimes.

But upon a more detailed examination of the boisterous room, I noticed the shadow of a man appearing to be standing alone. His tall, shadowy figure seemed to be trying to decide on his next move. Though I couldn't really see him, I did notice that the tips and bottoms of his shoes shone a fluorescent purplish color, which, in this lighting, meant that they were really bright white. I guessed they were converse, and I thought that was a good, albeit odd choice.

Suddenly I saw the shoes turn, along with the man wearing them. Although I waved it off as a crazy notion, I swore that he was looking right at me. With the dimness of the room, and the many far more interesting distractions around him, I didn't see how it could be possible that he saw me, much less took interest. I had been counting on the atmosphere of this place to keep me out of sight and out of mind as I observed the goings on.

But somehow, against all odds, he must have seen me. Really seen me. Because his fluorescent tipped shoes began making their way towards me, and I would have sooner believed the shoes had hopped off his feet of their own accord and waltzed over to me than to believe this man was actually coming over to me. But yet, there he was, undeniably right in front of me. I could see his figure outlined by the occasional flashing lights, and I could almost even see his face.

And then suddenly, I felt a tap on my right shoulder. My heart stopped for a moment and I was eternally grateful for the sunglass which covered up the shock in my eyes. He said hello to me, too. His voice was remarkably chipper and I sensed something genuine about him.

He kept on talking for some time, rambling about something or other. I'll be damned if I had any idea just what he was going on about. I was too busy trying to figure out why he had come up to me, touched me, and even spoke to me.

When you become a member of the House of Noise, you gain a certain aura. It says "I am a fragile work of art, you may look, and admire, but never touch." When you become the designated Boss of the House of Noise, which is what I had become several years back, that aura is strengthened tenfold. So this man should have had no desire to get within ten feet of me.

And yet there he was, chattering away. I pulled my sunglasses down just a tad, to ensure I wasn't imagining this. I wasn't. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew who he was and what he was doing here. But I asked anyways.

"Are you the leader of your group?" I asked, as quietly as the music would allow.

"Well, I suppose you could say that, but I've never really viewed it that way. We're all in this together, after all."

I surprised myself by starting to smile. I quickly held myself back. My mouth then continued to move against my will, and proceed to tell the man what I thought of him, honestly; something I hadn't done with anyone in a long time.

I must've have said the right thing, because he thanked me.

"No, thank you," I added, too quiet for him to hear. I was suddenly incredibly relieved by his presence. Such a stark contrast form the nightly hum and drum. I was shocked that he had somehow made it in here, but grateful.

I decided I wanted to know more about him, so I told him to tell me about himself. I tried to listen as he spoke. I managed to pick up a few things. His parents were strict, but he thought it was all for the best. He further emphasized how grateful he was to have ever made it in here at all.

"You should be grateful," I agreed, nodding slightly. I had finally decided to speak a bit. One sided conversations weren't as much fun.

"I am," he said, yet again. "I'm worried though. I realize what a privilege it is for me and the others, and I fear I'll fuck up and we'll lose this chance." He got real quiet, and I could barely hear him anymore. "Supposedly the Boss is here somewhere, watching. And he's going to make a speech.......and let all the Hons know if we are good enough."

It was a good thing he said that, because I had forgotten about the speech until he mentioned it. I laughed a little at the ridiculousness of the whole situation I had found myself in. And I figured now was just as good a time as any to end it.

"It was nice to chat with you, Chris. But if you'll excuse me, I've got some business to attend to now." I stood and walked away with a smirk on my face, allowing him to wonder how I knew his name and what it was I had to do. I didn't feel bad about it though; he'd find out soon enough.


chapter 7

I had mixed feelings as I watched him disappear into the crowd. I felt like we had been having a really nice chat. But at the same time, the pessimistic part of my brain wondered what the hell I knew. All I was sure of was what I had been thinking the whole time. For all I knew, the strange man could have been silently laughing at me all the while, or dying for an escape from my monotonous ways.

The paranoid part of my brain worried that this might have been my final straw in a slowly shrinking chain of tolerance that I felt the Hons might have for me. After all, they had all walked off just like that after I had spoken with them. I folded my arms together, gripping my forearms tightly. I stared off into the crowd, mesmerized by their perfect smiles and little gestures. I yearned to learn how to be that way.

The people seemed to pull each other in like magnets, forming tight little groups that just could not be pulled away by any force. I longed to be a part of one of them, but I felt like an outsider. Suddenly panic washed over me and I realized that I was an outsider.

My mind reeling, I made my way over to the bar eager for a drink. The funny thing was, I never drank. I had never saw the merit in alcohol. But I was already so far out of my element, I figured I'd just keep going farther and farther.

Just as I slammed my first empty glass onto the shiny wooden surface of the bar I noticed something odd. The strange yet compelling music had stopped blasting from the speakers hidden away inside the walls. The people were still in their groups, but were standing quite still. Creepily still.

Without all the distracting moments of others, I finally pinpointed Guy, Will, and Jonny amongst the masses of people. They were standing just as still as the others. I tapped my fingers on the wood and hummed to myself nervously. The bartender looked at me oddly. I began to sweat. I had no idea what was going on. And then I heard a man's voice from somewhere.

I tilted my ear towards where I thought is was coming from, but I realized that it seemed to be coming from everywhere. It was low, quiet, calm. And it sounded familiar. At first it spoke in whispers, but slowly it increased in volume and soon I could make out a word.

"People, people, people" the man repeated over and over. The man's voice sounded carefully constructed, like whomever was speaking knew how to project an emotionless tone better than most people could tie their shoes.

It could have been the alcohol talking (I had never been able to hold my liquor well) but I was impressed. I admired this mystery man's ability to hide all of his feelings behind a smooth, even, curtain of a voice. I looked all around, trying desperately to decipher where in the shadows of the building the man must be hiding away.

I was ready to give up and down another glass with frustration when the lights dimmed. Which was quite a change, since the lights had already been fairly dull to begin with. I lost all view of the crowd and could only see a little ways in front of me. Then suddenly there was a bright white light at what appeared to be the front of the establishment.

It was a spotlight, I realized with interest. And it revealed a small stage. I hadn't noticed that before. But it was there, and it looked like it had been there since the beginning of time. Or at least before this building had been converted to a House of Noise headquarters and a Hons hangout . It wasn't shiny or fancy or modern. It was plain wooden stage with a microphone stand.

Stupidly, I wondered what the microphone stand was for until I saw a man walk up to it out of the shadows. I realized he must have been the one speaking in that entrancing voice. He didn't walk so much as stride confidently to the stand and place his microphone in it, producing a defiant high-pitched sound that somehow was more attention grabbing than just plain annoying.

He cleared his throat, an unnecessary action seeing as how everyone in the room had their gazes fixed on him. They still were not talking or moving. I halfheartedly wondered if they were even breathing. The spotlight focused on the man and gasped without meaning too. My eyes darted around the room to look for anyone who might have noticed my slip. But no one had.

No one but the man on stage. His eyes met mine and understanding came to me like a rush of wind. First, this was the man I had spoken to just moments before. And second, this was his world. The House of Noise and all the Hons belonged to him; they were puppets at his fingertips for whenever he wanted to play.

I don't know how I knew. He could have been anyone. But somehow I could just tell. An then he began to speak. Slowly and clearly this time. It seemed he was giving a speech. He was giving a speech. My brain was still in shock and not functioning properly, but I tried to listen to his words.


chapter 8

I made my way through the crowd with the ease of a practiced trapeze artist jumping from swing to swing in a circus. It was fitting analogy. I'd always viewed this place as a circus of sorts. Only it was usually me who was the audience, with the Hons providing all the entertainment.

I flipped the collar up on my jacket. The tables were turning now. I twitched a little at the thought of showing my face. But it had to be done. And it wouldn't last long. Besides, I could make them all forget anything I said that I might end up regretting later.

I broke free from the last throngs of people to disappear behind the maroon curtains that hung so casually from one corner of the House. Nobody ever noticed them, because I didn't want them to. I smiled a bit. Sometimes all this power was nice. I leaned against the cold painted wall and was suddenly felt as though a question was burning somewhere deep within me, dying to be answered.

But of course that flame was extinguished as soon as Rosemary shoved through the curtains and thrust a microphone at my chest. I nearly dropped but managed to get a grip on it just as she plugged it into the amp tucked secretly away amongst all the drapery. I growled, irritated at having my thoughts disturbed yet again.

"Start talking," she ordered dismissively, as if nothing else could possibly have as much importance as this showy display of meaningless babble.

"Whatever," I mumbled (childish I will admit). And I did begin to talk. My voice sounded horrible to my own ears, though I know it must have sounded beautiful to my audience. I couldn't tell you what exactly it was I said to save my life. I did realize I was being awfully quiet though, so I raised my volume just a tad.

I could hear the aura shift then, and I knew had the crowd's full attention. It was time to really get a move on. "People, people, people," I repeated slowly, walking casually onto the small stage (though it was really more of a plain wooden platform) and dramatically attaching my microphone to its accompanying stand. I winced a little at the high-pitched sound that resulted, but everyone else seemed to like it just fine. Their eyes were wide and fixed directly on me.

I cleared my throat, a nervous habit I had never quite been able to break despite all my training. "My dear Hons," I began dramatically, "we are gathered here for a most special occasion, an occasion that is as exciting as it is rare in the House of Noise. Tonight we have among us four young men who would not only like to gain status as Hons but would like to receive the grand privilege of becoming the newest Makers of Noise."

I paused for effect, as I had always been taught to do. Hah, I thought to myself, as if it really mattered. These people ate out of my hands like little birds. "They have already passed the first stage, as related to me by my second in command."

It wasn't against the rules to use her name, but I chose not to just to irk her. I wasn't ready to forgive her for disturbing my peace this evening. Childish as it was, it gave me real pleasure to antagonize her. I glanced to the side for a brief moment and saw her scowling behind the curtains. Satisfied, I continued on.

"The second stage, however, depends on the thoughts and feelings of my dear Hons." It was necessary to make them feel like their opinions mattered, even if the House had already made up its mind one way or another. "Now tell me," I asked, "do you feel their musical presence in the House tonight!?"

I paused as if waiting for a reply, though really I was searching for a sign in the air. The Hons began to clap rhythmically just as I felt the shocking presence of a rare aura being given off by the House, the aura of acceptance.

I instinctively reached up to touch the rim of my sunglasses with one hand, more grateful than ever that I had made the decision to leave them on. I didn't want to risk someone, namely Rosemary, seeing the completely stunned look in my eyes at having felt such an aura.

I swallowed nervously and tried to ignore the feelings of uncertainty and even fear that were beginning to creep in through my skin. "Then let it be known, before the entire House, that the newcomers have passed stage two of initiation!"

There was a roar of cheering from the crowd. It gave me shivers. I didn't know what to do. All that was left was stage three. And that was up to me to decide. Never in my years as Boss had anyone made it past stage two. "And now..." I began slowly, "we move onto the final stage. I will make the final decision about these four men. And what I dictate will remain to be the ultimate, non-negotiable verdict for said men."

I eyed the crowd, searching nervously for the four newbies in the crowd. I slowly pinpointed each one. I was baffled when I met eye contact with the first three without feeling any sort of positive aura at all. The aura I received from them was stagnant.

Suddenly I recalled the man I had spoken with just minutes earlier, Chris. Suddenly feeling odd, I frantically searched for him in the crowd, not quite knowing why I felt I was being compelled so strongly to do so. Finally I found him, sitting at the bar, an odd mix of recognition and uncertainty in his eyes.

But somehow the combination of those feelings was perfect, for I was suddenly struck with an unbelievably powerful feeling that he belonged. And before I knew it I was concluding my speech by proclaiming that the four men were officially accepted into the House of Noise as Makers of Music.

I glanced at Rosemary, then back at Chris. Both looked as shocked as I felt. Without another word, I walked in a daze off the stage to the sound of raucous cheering from the crowd. I had no idea what I had just gotten myself into. But hell I had never so strongly craved a stiff drink.


chapter 9

I'm not sure when it registered within me that we had been accepted into the House. To this day I wonder if I ever fully managed to wrap my head around the idea. It was preposterous. It had to be impossible. And yet the man, the Boss I presumed, had told us and all the Hons that we were in.

As soon as that strange man left the makeshift stage all eyes in the room began to stare at us. I don't know how they all managed to stare at each one of us individually as well as simultaneously, but I swear they did it. And it wasn't confusion or confrontation in their eyes, it was admiration. An admiration so strong it was almost as though I could feel it leaking from their eyes and soaking my skin to the bone.

I swallowed nervously and was about to request another drink, but soon thought better of it. I was having difficulty remaining sane as it was, another drink certainly wasn't going to help. And besides, I didn't want to risk doing anything stupid. Certainly our acceptance could be revoked at any time, if by chance some socially awkward buffoon who can't hold his liquor were to perform some act of stupidity too outrageous to ignore.

So instead I stood up to go.......well I didn't know where. As soon as I arose, however, I was struck with dizziness. It could have been the drink, but even I could handle one beer without passing out. It was more likely the result of my shock.

Luckily for me, I had no sooner risen out of my stool than I was promptly made to sit back down by a pair of strong arms. "Ouch," I muttered, rubbing one forearm. Strong grip. I looked up, and my stomach flipped. Jonny's luminous green eyes were staring down at me. He grinned, looking vaguely like a cocky high school quarterback after throwing the winning touchdown.

"You did it!" he exclaimed, sounding almost as smug as he looked.

"No..." I replied distractedly, caught up in his gaze, "we did it."

Jonny's grin turned into a regular smile, something that looked a lot more like the Jonny I knew and....well, still loved. It was easier to admit with a bit of alcohol in my bloodstream.

"Jonny," I started, but stopped when Jonny called out to Guy, who had been standing a little ways off, unbeknownst to me.

"Come over here, you!" he called out playfully, grabbing his hand as Guy walked up to us. "Chris says we got in because of team effort. I'd say that's pretty accurate, wouldn't you?"

"It sure is." Guy sounded cocky too, but not in a sweet way. Just in an "I'm an ass" kind of way. I turned my eyes away from him. I shouldn't be like this, I thought, not after I had just complimented our group's teamwork. And Guy wasn't so bad, not really. He brought a real sense of calm and cool to the group, something we, and especially me, definitely needed.

Suddenly Will had appeared too and soon we are all getting along like we used to before any of this ridiculous House stuff had started. Before we met Scott, before any of the stresses and pressures of meeting up to someone else's expectations. Before.......

I couldn't bring myself to finish the thought. Suddenly my victory felt hollow.

"Excuse me guys," I said, pushing past Jonny.

"I guess the excitement is a bit too much for him."

"I don't know about that Jon. He's not as simple-minded as you might think."

"Oh, I know...." Jonny replied quietly. "Sorry."

"Aww come on Will," Guy said, "Jon is right. Chris isn't so hard to read."

"He's not an open book Guy, he has a code like everyone else does. And unless you're an expert in cracking codes, I doubt you know him as well as you think."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. All that matters right now is that we celebrate our victory! Can I get some drinks over here?" Guy called out.

Cheers erupted from Will and Jonny. Any problems were temporarily forgotten. Now was the time to commemorate a successful night. And that they did. Each drink tasting like sweet victory on their tongues, they partied the night away, with all the Hons at their side.

At least I expect that's what happened. I made a break for the cool air outside as soon as Guy called for the drinks. As I pushed open the doors to icy air nipping at my face, I marveled in how easy it was to escape the House.

Funny, as ridiculous as it sounds, I had always up to that point somehow viewed the House of Night as a place that wouldn't let you leave unless it wanted you gone. But despite what most people in those days tended to forget, it could try and dictate your life, but in the end you had control over your own mind.

I shivered, partially from the cold, but also a bit from the realization that I was always free inside my own head. Even if I couldn't control what went on in there, I could certainly control what went on in my brain. It was a good feeling.

I must have been standing around doing nothing in particular for quiet some time, because eventually my eyes met the first rays of the sun, squinting painfully. No sooner had the light reached my pupils than the Hons began to file out of the House like a line of soldiers heading off to start their morning drills. I guess Jonny, Will, and Guy must have left with them. But I never saw them again that night. Or more accurately, morning.

Once everyone had left, I turned around to look at the menacing House. Which, to be honest, didn't look nearly as menacing in the day light. In fact, it was like all the life had been sucked right out of it. It looked like a regular building, not unlike the many others that had been built so many years back when the city was first founded. I touched its bricks lightly with my fingertips and marveled at how big a difference a small change in perspective could make.


chapter 10

Even if the current silence hadn't been such a harsh contrast to the former sounds of hundreds of Hons chattering away I would have been able to sense that the House was finally empty. Relief washed over me and I peered beyond my curtain through my little window just to make sure it was really true. And alas, I wasn't wrong, the House was void of any other human life forms.

I felt something deep down inside me, deep within my bones if you've a hankering for a cheesier description, that was pulling me forward. Used to these kinds of feelings by now, I didn't hesitate to listen to it. I opened up the door (with some difficulty as the heat generated by all the people had, as usual, caused the wood in the door to swell up) and stepped out into the musty air of the House's main room. But I felt choked, or as if I was drowning, so I hurriedly made my way for the main entrance and exit doors.

I grabbed the handles, lingering for just a moment, wondering what on earth was compelling me to want to breathe some fresher air. Rosemarry heard the creak as I opened the doors, and called out, questioning me. I ignored her and slipped outside. It was a classic summer morning; gray, hazy, and pleasantly warm. There was a light breeze which felt good against my skin. I looked around, taking in all that I hadn't seen in years.

It wasn't much to look at. Nothing splendid or even vaguely of interest. I sighed and instantly regretted my brief moment of childish curiosity. But the sigh quickly transformed into a small gasp when I noticed another human figure out of the corner of my eye. I instantly feared it would be a House member. How would I ever explain why I had a sudden, stupid, desire to leave the safely and convenience of the House?

I slowly turned to the side to face this individual. He was.....familiar? I rubbed my eyes, disbelieving. I even thought for a brief moment that the drinks I'd had a couple of hours ago were causing me to hallucinate, but that was wishful thinking. Neither my eyes nor my brain was playing tricks on me. The man from earlier that night was standing right in front of me. Who was, I suppose, the most harmless person I could have come across out here.

Chris didn't blink, didn't even move. He was frozen. Frozen with....fear? Probably. He seemed like the type who was easily intimidated. I laughed to myself that anyone might find me intimidating though. There's hardly a single thing that should seem daunting about a man who spends his time hiding in his room and drinking his life away.

I knew that he wasn't going to talk first so I began. "Chris," I said with a bit of hesitation. "Hey there."

I was attempting to have a real conversation with a real person. I could have written an entire book about the irony of that. Lost as I was in my own thoughts, I only heard the latter half of his reply.

"....and I hope I haven't disturbed you in any way."

His voice was shaking. I looked at him, but he stared at the concrete below, ashamed of himself. That feeling inside of me returned again suddenly, and it was urging me to say more. So I said the first thing that came to mind.

"You're the most interesting thing out here." He looked up slowly, cautiously. And I think he smiled. "Just come inside, if you're done out here."

"Ok....k...ay...," he stuttered, clearly in disbelief. He followed me back in.

"Sorry but the aura out there is terrible," I mumbled, more to explain my actions to myself than to him. I had no sensible explanation for why I was behaving so unconventionally. The door shut with a loud creak and I flinched, remembering that I wasn't completely alone here. And of course, the obnoxious sounds of Rosemary's gaudy shoes came closer and closer until I could actually see her in the room, a few feet from me. She looked beyond me and frowned deeply, noticing Chris.

I just shrugged, but she was having none of it. She grabbed one of my arms, her nails making an unpleasant sound on the leather of my jacket, and whispered "We need to talk." Asshole that I was, my sunglasses were still firmly on my face, so I rolled my eyes without worrying about being caught, then followed her out into her office.

"What on Earth has gotten into you Julian?" she asked. I was surprised that she sounded genuinely concerned about my well-being rather than angry. "Why didn't you just tell that man to leave when you saw him out there? Why did you go outside at all?"

"Well, I can answer you but you'll tell me I'm full of it."

"No I won't," she replied, pursing her lips defiantly.

I hurried to say what I had to say all at once so that I've no idea how my words were actually understood. "I didn't tell him to leave because I wanted him to stay. And I went outside because I got one of those feelings. I was being pulled out so I went out."

She heaved a frustrated sigh in my direction. "Do you have to be so secretive with me? I'm the only one you talk to, you could at least really talk to me."

"I can't explain it any more than that. That's all I know." I pulled up my sunglasses for a moment and looked into her eyes. "I was taught to always follow these gut feelings. So I follow them. They've never......been wrong before. Once I figure out what they're trying to tell me, anyway."

"I'm not going to lie to you; I don't really understand what you mean. But I won't bother you about it anymore right now. Let the man stay here, if he wants. For the time being. But do try to figure out...whatever it is you've got going on in that twisted mind of yours."

I gave a sharp nod, my glasses siding back down to the bridge of my nose, and went back out to the main room.


chapter 11

When he returned a couple of minutes later without the woman, I was in a state of near panic. I was sure I'd ruined the band's one big chance at ever amounting to anything.

"I can just leave if you want it's not problem," I blurted out all at once. "I should go, yeah."

He didn't respond, he just stood with his arms folded, looking at me. He looked around the room then back at me again. He looked like he was trying to make a decision. I stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder. "I didn't mean to disturb your peace."

Suddenly he laughed. It sounded half choked, as if he had forgotten how. He covered his mouth and stepped back from me. "The only thing you disturbed is the endlessly mundane routine of mine."

"Wh..what do you do?" I didn't know why I kept talking. Every word I uttered echoed around the room felt like cold water as rushed back into my own ears. I was about to drown, hypothermic and alone, in my own awkwardness.

He pulled off his sunglasses in one swift movement and I finally saw his eyes. They made him looking like he was drowning too, sinking far down into the same icy cold depths as I had just fallen into. "All I do is drink, mope, make one appearance each night, sleep, and dream." His eyes softened, like he was floating closer to the surface of some great sea, where the water was warm from the heat of the sun's rays burning down upon it. "I dream a lot."

"I do too," I replied enthusiastically. But he didn't seem to hear me.

"Uh let's not stand here. You can come to my....erm I guess it's an office? Yeah. And don't worry about any of this. Your position is not in jeopardy and no one will ever know you were here after the sun came up."

I didn't think I had been so obvious about my fears. Silently I followed him, wondering what kinds if abilities this man possessed. I thought back to the announcement he gave. If he was really the Boss, he must be a real specimen of a man.
The "office" looked half like a lounge and half like a college frat boy's bachelor pad. The most prominent piece of furniture was a black leather futon against one wall. There were some other odd pieces scattered about.

He laid on the futon, almost jumping onto it like a child. I cautiously sat in a chair near to where he lay with his head tilted slightly, just watching me. His sunglasses were functioning now as a headband pushing the many scraggly hairs that would fall into his eyes back on top of his head.

He reached behind him for a tall bottle which appeared to be some kind of hard liquor (perhaps I would have been able to label it more specifically had I been at all familiar with alcoholic beverages).

TO BE CONTINUED....