Chapter 07: Dangerous

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A new scene opens with Arthur sitting on his sofa, reading a book and petting the head of a cat lying on his lap while others stroll around his room. There's a lampshade on top of a cabinet, emitting a soft yellow light that prevents the penumbra in the room from becoming complete darkness.

This peaceful moment is broken by the sound of knocks on Arthur's door. Unexpected knocks considering the confused glance Arthur exchanges with the cat at his lap at hearing this. The sound keeps repeating, insistently, making Arthur put his book aside and go to the door to check what is going on.

"Arthur, my old friend! Come on, leave your cats aside for a moment. We have much to talk about."

Urgh, it had to be Francis. Of course. Who else would it be?

Arthur grunts in disgust and opens the door with a sour expression.

"What do you want?"

Francis shakes his index finger with a smile. He is dressed in winter clothes, which show that some time has passed since the scene we last saw.

"My dear Arthur, don't you know that the first thing you say to a visitor is 'welcome to my home'?" Arthur's annoying and unexpected guest dares to tease him.

"You would have been a visitor if you had been invited, and that was not the case.", Arthur tells him, and although he sounds a little bitter, he doesn't appear to be that surprised. He seems somehow used to sudden visits from Francis in the middle of the night.

"Why, is it that much of a surprise that I'm here? You didn't come to any of the celebratory parties after the recordings were done, so evidently, we have matters that you need to catch up on." Francis tells him, boldly entering Arthur's flat, taking off his coat and hanging it behind the door, acting almost as casually as he would in his own house. "By the way, I have to say that a certain Alfred F. Jones missed you a lot. He asked about you all the time."

Arthur gulps and looks away. He knows he's blushing.

"I wonder what is going on between you two ~"

What goes through Arthur Kirkland's mind at this instant is the following:

Oh, nothing. I just spend every night since we recorded our last scene together, wanting to talk to him but not having the guts to do it. I miss having sex with him and I miss talking to him and I feel ridiculous for feeling this way because, certainly, he perceives everything we experienced together as part of a game. Still, I cannot help but think that he has sides that I truly admire, such as his dedication to becoming a better actor and the attentive manner in which he treats the other members of our staff. He is funny, creative and he has passion. He manages to make my days more vibrant, even if they also get annoying on occasion. Still, I think that he sees me as a failed actor and I don't think I could win over his heart. Actually, I don't even want to think about the idea of my heart being won over by him, so I'm trying to ignore this thought every day by distracting myself with books.

"Oh, nothing," is all that he says.

Francis doesn't look convinced. He just seems entertained.

"You're a better actor than that, Arthur Kirkland. At least try to convince me next time. "he mocks while sitting on his sofa and being promptly climbed upon by Arthur's cats.

Arthur tries to think in a proper answer but before he manages to do it, Francis raises a hand to say:

"Very well, I won't insist on this matter." he concedes graciously. "I can see that talking about it makes you agitated and I don't want you to drive me out of your house before I talk about the subject that brought me here."

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