Chapter #21The Voice Inside My Head by: imaj   The door to Jon Wright’s hotel room is identical to the one to Breeanna’s room. You don’t knock politely this time though. Instead you hammer on the door relentlessly. “Open up Wright,” you yell.
You hear someone inside stomp angrily to the door. It opens a handful of inches and Jon’s flushed looking face appears at the door “Jeez Marji, what is it” he growls.
You don’t bother answering as you ram your newly created golem mask onto Jon’s face. His look of shock vanishes the instant the mask disappears inside him. “Open the door arsehole,” you order.
To his surprise, Jon opens the door. You stride into the room, shoving him roughly aside. A scream greets you as you enter. One of the hotel maids is leaning on the wall by the bed, her dress hanging round her waist.
You look back at Breeanna’s manager. “Are you fucking kidding me,” you screech. “What, one woman yah can’t satisfy not enough?” You turn back round and point an accusatory finger at the maid. “Yah. Out!”
The maid mumbles something in a language you don’t recognise as she fumbles her dress back on. Then she dashes out the room, tears forming in her eyes.
Jon walks over to you, a sheepish grin on his face. He tries to lay a hand on your shoulder. You can practically see the gears in his head turning as he tries to work out how to explain this. “Look Marji,” he begins. “It didn’t mean…”
“Don’t bother,” you interrupt.
Jon immediately falls silent, his face shocked at his own response to you. He works his jaw noiselessly for a few moments. “What did you do to me? You shoved something in my face..”
“Yah have to do what I say now yah fucker,” you tell him gleefully. “First order is yah don’t tell any fellers about this. Things go on just the way they were before. Except yah hang around a little next time we fuck. Nice guys finish last, right.” Jon nods, his face pale. “And next order is you go to Breeanna’s room and tell her she has to play the concert tonight.” He gives you a puzzled stare. “No questions. Just tell her. Make up some bullshit, nothing to do with me. Our little secret.” As he exits the room you settle onto the bed. “I’ll be waiting here for when yah get back.”
You reach for the link to Breeanna, opening it just enough for your senses to rush through. Suddenly you are elsewhere, sitting with your legs curled up under you on the couch whilst watching TV. It feels distant, as if you are watching it all through a window pane smeared with grease. You can feel her thoughts flitting about - the nerves and the panic and the sadness, all tentatively covered by the thin veneer of hope from your time together earlier.
You bring yourself close to Viritrilbia, so when you speak the words you speak them in Breeanna’s own voice and with such sincerity that she cannot help but think the thought is her own: “Marji always looks out for me. I can trust everything she says.”
Except you don’t use Marji’s name, not in any way. Nor do you use Will Prescott, or Siobhan Connor, or any other name you’ve gone by. It isn’t even a name you can say in English, just a complicated sigil arrangement that links the remote mask on Breeanna’s face to you.
There’s a knock at the door. It’s odd, feeling Breeanna’s legs unfold and stand up without your directing them. She walks to the door and opens it. “Jon?” The words sound strange, hearing her voice from inside her head. “I was just going to come see yah. About the concert tonight…”
“It’s going ahead,” interrupts Jon.
“But yah said…”
“Sponsors insisted,” says Jon brusquely. He doesn’t wait for any kind of response. He just starts to turn away.
“But…” whines Breeanna. She stares dumbfounded as Jon walks away. You use Eldibria to pour despair straight inside her. The ousiarch doesn’t tip he over the edge, it smashes through her and reduces her to a quivering wreck. Her legs simply stop supporting her weight and she collapses to the floor blubbering.
You let go of the connection to Breeanna and sit upright in the bed. You climb to your feet just as Jon re-enters the room. “Nice to see yah’re good for something,” you smirk, as you walk by him. “I’ll be in touch.” As you reach the door you pause for a second. You summon tears to your eyes and twist your face into a mask of concern.
Then you run down the corridor to Breeanna. You kneel beside her and hug her as tightly as you can. “Don’t let that fucker grind yah down sweetie, it’s going to be alright,” you lie. “I’ll be there for you tonight.”
*****
You put the finishing touches to Breeanna’s makeup, lining the blood red lips. A day ago, the woman in the red catsuit was nervous but excited. Tonight she barely seems alive. Breeanna pulls herself up from the chair listlessly. She gives you a blank stare, then trudges out the door.
“Go knock ‘em dead sweetie,” you murmur, hiding your smirk.
You lock the door before sitting down in the makeup chair yourself. Your mind drifts and you find yourself looking out of Breeanna’s eyes, riding along in the back of her mind. She moves through the backstage area, the screaming fans growing louder and louder. The stage appears in front of your vision, its dazzling lights just ahead.
Jon growls at Breeanna as she walks past: “Don’t mess this up.” A neat touch, and one you are glad you instructed him to make. You reinforce his message by using Eldbria to insinuate a little note of panic into Breeanna.
Breeanna stumbles as she leaves the wings and steps out onto the stage. The audience doesn’t notice the slip, instead the screams grow louder. That gives Breeanna a small measure of confidence. She pauses for a moment to pick herself up and try to calm herself. Then she strides to the microphone.
Breeanna takes a deep breath.
It feels as if things are hanging by a thread. The audience senses it too. The screaming, the hollering, everything, it all just peters out. Five thousand people stand silent, watching, waiting for the show to start.
You whisper the words across the connection between you, mimicking Breeanna’s voice once more with the aid of Viritrilbia: “I can’t do this.” They float in her mind for a few seconds before tumbling out of her mouth too.
If the audience was quiet before, they’re utterly silent now. Some of them start whispering, asking each other what is going on.
“I need to get out of here”, you say softly directly into Breeanna’s mind, leaving her convinced that the foreign thought is entirely her own. Then you drop Viritrilbia in favour of Eldibria and pour panic across the connection. You feel Breeanna’s heart start to race. Her legs feel weak. Then she turns and runs with tears streaming from her eyes.
You let the connection fade and suddenly you are back in the makeup chair, laughing madly.
To stop reminiscing, attend to Fi's reports in "A Short Hop" 
 You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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