Moonlit Man (bxb)

Chapter 9 - House of Devereaux

Rachael walked towards the table in the center of the dimly lit room, holding a dense binder. She placed it on the thick wooden coffee table while elegantly seating herself in the leather sofas which at first were cool to the touch. Kate and Sam followed and sat on either side of her. She opened it while slipping on a pair of black glasses, shaped like cat-eyes.

"Samuel, do you have any preferences on color, size and fit mon cheri?" He cluelessly shook his head as this was all foreign to him. He had never even worn a suit in his life, never mind a custom made one.

"He'll go for a three-piece, single breasted suit, two-buttoned front and glossy lapels, maybe silk or satin." Kate suggested, like it was second nature. Sam looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as if surprised. "My dad likes his suits. He used to take me to the tailors with him when I was a kid."

"Yeah, I'll go for what she said." Sam said, slightly smirking.

"Okay Samuel, now it's your turn to decide. I want you to choose a fabric for your suit. Kate told me that the event in question is a masquerade ball, so I suggest starting off with the virgin wools and then working your way through there." Rachael slid the thick binder in front of him. He looked down at dozens of small squares of fabric, each which had a small number in the corner. He was amazed at the endless shades of black and how many finishes of fabric there were. Some were shiny, some were not, some had glints of glitter or twilled thread. Sam thought he couldn't possibly choose.

"Uh, Miss Devereaux, I don't know where to start... I've never really worn a suit before, and I don't know what I like." He said, dropping his head as a feeling of shyness engulfed him.

"C'est bon. We can start from scratch Samuel," She said, while closing the binder. "Kate, mon chéri, do you mind giving us some privacy?"

"No absolutely not, I'll be at the front if you need me." Kate smiled as she slipped out of the dark room. Rachael stood up and activated a metronome on a nearby shelf. She slowly paced around the room while he remained seated, wondering what was about to happen. The rhythmic ticking sounds permeated the atmosphere, supplemented with the muted clattering of her stilettos.

"Remember when I told you that a suit is an extension of the individual who wears it? Well, I need to understand you, if we are to find the perfect match." A feeling of uneasiness came over Sam, as if he was about to be dissected by Rachael's thin, scalpel-like nails.

"What is your favorite color?" She asked.

"Blue."

"Bleue. Describe it to me. Is it the blue we see in the sky or the blue in mountain top fog? What kind of blue? I want you to close your eyes and think before you answer Samuel."

He rested his back against the cold leather, took a deep breath and sunk his slim frame into the sofas embrace. After a pause, he said, "It's a very deep blue, the nocturnal kind. The type of blue that's emitted by a full moon which fades into the surrounding dark sky... It's the type of blue that is present when you go to the beach at night and see the white rays bounce off the surface of the water."

"Excellente. Now, tell me how you feel when you think of that color."

"I feel... present. Clear minded, like there's peace. I feel like the weight within me has been lifted and I can now breathe, move."

"Okay, when do you feel the most, confiante, confident?"

Sam found himself thinking hard for an answer to that question. The truth is he had never felt confident. Not since his mother. Nobody really made him feel seen or heard, apart from Katie. Sam thought that if the term 'confidence' was associated with the term 'self-efficacy', then it would be at home, in the comfort of his dorm room where he lives independently or when he was working in the café, hidden in plain sight. These were situations where he was steadfast in his own abilities and needed only to rely on himself. He answered,