Tone Shift

The rest of the meal passes quickly with a little small talk, but nothing of true consequence is said. Miranda and her husband mostly keep to themselves, but I notice her occasionally sneaking looks at me, Tadeas, and a few others around the room. The band, a small masked group of people carrying various instruments, arrives a few minutes into the main course and begins to play some unobtrusive classical music.

As the meal winds down and tables are cleared off, the music begins to liven up, and what was once background music quickly becomes the focus of the room. New instruments are brought forward of a more electronic nature, and what was once Classical music shifts into a kind of EDM-Classical fusion. People begin to migrate from their tables to the front of the room, where the stage is. There’s ample space between the stage and the tables, where people are beginning to form a crowd.

Honestly, the difference in tone from just a few minutes ago is quite jarring. The lights have dimmed and new multicolored lights give off the distinct feeling of a rave. Although there’s a steady stream of people moving toward the front, everybody at our table is still seated.

The first to stand is Bernice, and Dina quickly follows. The music is quite loud, so Bernice just signals with her thumb that she and Dina are going to join the crowd, then they leave.

I’d normally go forward with them, but Laura’s still looking a bit uneasy so I’m content to just sit here with her, and nobody else at our table is making any moves to join the rave.

Sofia and Tadeas are having a quiet conversation, and Miranda is staring at the crowd while her husband looks at the ground.

I lean over to Laura and whisper in her ear, “how are you doing?”

She takes a second to respond, “I’m fine. They would’ve hated this.”

“They?”

“The apostles; To see their holy-place converted into a den of vice… they would hate this so much.”

“You keep saying that word. What’s an apostle?”

“They were 12 men who led the church and were responsible for all of the member’s spiritual wellbeing. They were responsible for interpreting scripture and speaking to God.”

“They spoke to God?” I find that a little hard to believe.

“This is where they would do it. They’d commune here privately and speak to him, then reveal it to the church.”

Maybe I’m too cynical for religion, but that sounds really dumb. Their church was built around a bunch of dudes who claimed to be able to talk to god, but would only do it when no one was watching? That’s fucking stupid. “So they could just say whatever the hell they wanted, then say that God said it?”

“I…”  She pauses for a moment as if thinking about something, “Yeah, I guess they could have.”

“Your old church sounds really shitty.”

“It–” she looks over at me and gives me a little smile, “it really was, wasn’t it?”

She stands up abruptly, and reaches her hand out to me, “I want to sin a little! Let’s go dance!”

I grab her hand, and she leads both of us into the crowd. I’m not really much of a dancer, nor am I one much for crowds, but I’m not going to say no when this is the happiest Laura’s looked all night. I tighten my grip on Laura’s hand as we enter the throng. I really don’t want to lose her in this. The crowd’s not huge, as many people are still chatting at their tables or have already left with a few more people than they came with, but it’s still enough people that we could easily get separated

Squished as we are in the crowd, calling what we’re doing dancing might be a bit generous. We’re just moving with the crowd, who are in turn moving with the music. Rather quickly our grips on each other’s hands are tested and I opt to instead move her in front of me, draping my arms over her shoulders. For a while we follow the ebb and flow of the crowd, enjoying the music and doing our best to not drown in the crowd.

During a small lull, Laura tilts her head backward and I gaze down into her eyes. She’s bathed in bright blue light from various lights overhead and, at this moment, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. I barely even notice that I’ve gone for a kiss when my mouth meets hers.

It’s not a short kiss. Even in this awkward position with our masks getting in the way I can’t bring myself to break our kiss. After a few more seconds she breaks away for a moment to turn around so that we’re facing each other, then dives back into me.

For a minute, the crowd moves around us as we lock lips like our lives depend on it. Finally, Laura has had enough and breaks the kiss, but keeps her face mere inches from mine.

She leans forward, and speaks directly into my ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

Chills run down my spine as she rests her hands on my chest and gazes lovingly into my eyes.

Hell yeah.

We slowly start to extricate ourselves from the crowd and I begin to take stock of what’s going on. It looks like about a third of the people who were here have already left, and everyone else is part of the crowd we’re currently slowly pulling out of.

As I look back over the crowd I see a very lost-looking Sofia drowning in a sea of people. Laura seems to have noticed too, so we make a small detour, grabbing her on our way out of the crowd.

Sofia tries to say something to us, but she might as well be mouthing words with how loud the crowd is.

I lean in closer to try to understand her, and she yells, “Have you seen Tarrant?” just loud enough to be heard over the din.

I respond, “No! Was he not in the crowd?”

“I’ve been looking for a while! I don’t think he’s there!”

I take a glance back at our table but he's not there either.

Laura offers, “He might be outside! It’s super stuffy in here!”

Sofia responds, “Tarrant hates crowds! You might be right!”

We walk back through the entire dining hall, and as we do I take note of Miranda’s husband dead asleep at our table. He’s snoring relatively loudly as we walk past, and Miranda is nowhere to be seen. Maybe she left with someone else? We arrive at the large brass doors and two masked employees hold them open for us to leave.

Sofia asks, “Did a tall, blonde man come through here?”

The employees simply offer shrugs.

Stepping out into the brisk night air is quite a stark difference from the warm, stuffy dining hall. The doors shut behind us, taking away the last traces of the warmth offered by the building, leaving us in a chilly autumn night.

There’s nobody by the exit. Sofia looks around for a second and glances back at the now-closed doors. Upon realizing we’re locked out, she simply says, “shit.”

I say, “We were leaving anyway, do you want some help looking?”

“If he’s out here he shouldn’t be too far away. I should be fine. You guys have a great night though!”

Yeah, no. I’m not leaving a pretty blonde girl alone in a parking lot in the dead of night. I might as well try to help her search.

I walk forward to the sidewalk in front of the building, shush Laura and Sofia, and close my eyes. I activate sense boost, and I’m immediately assaulted by a few things at once. The distinct smell of sexual fluids is the most notable and is coming from various vehicles in the parking lots, as well as wafting from the building behind me. The music that Laura and I just escaped is suddenly clearly audible again, and each beat is like a mallet to my skull. Amidst this cacophony of stimulation, I hear something. It’s quiet, but I hear the steady sound of breathing to the side of the building.

I open my eyes and walk over, revealing a small, well-kept garden to the side of the building. It's probably a holdover from the restaurant’s previous owners. Standing in the center of the garden, facing away from us is Miranda, who is completely still, barring the slight movement of her breathing. I deactivate Sense Boost and begin to walk over, followed by both Sofia and Laura.

I call out, “Hey, Miranda!”

She offers no response.

“Miranda!”

She doesn’t even move.

I stop calling out to her. There’s something deeply wrong about this. Laura has picked up on some of the strangeness and grabs my arm.

Sofia has done no such thing. “Miranda! Have you seen Tarrant around!?” She calls to no response. Angry at being ignored, she storms over, but before saying anything she stops and takes a step back.

I follow her a moment later and see what shocked her. Miranda’s face is completely still, almost like she’s frozen in time. The only movement is her breathing as she stares blankly into nothing. I wave my hand in front of her face and receive no response.

Suddenly, an easily recognizable sound echoes through the night air, seemingly coming from my left.

Someone just fired a gun.