12-22-2023, 12:05 AM
After Adrian's invite to his penthouse, Jensen found himself in the elevator with the others, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts. Going up seemed better than facing the chaos of the lobby below, but his heart was heavy with unease.
The elevator doors slid open quietly, and Jensen hesitated for a second before stepping in. Inside, the atmosphere was a strange mix of tension and forced normality. There was small talk, perhaps in an attempt to dispel the unease, but Jensen just couldn't join in. He leaned against the cool metal of the elevator’s back wall, feeling out of place, his mind racing.
He caught Ezvin's eye briefly, looking for some kind of silent reassurance. Having Ezvin there was a small comfort, but it didn’t lessen the weight of what had happened. His secret was out, at least partly, and he was already uncomfortable with being out in other ways. It hung over him like a cloud in the confined space of the elevator.
While the others made small talk, he discreetly pulled out his wallet, scrolling through the barrage of messages. One stood out — sending shivers down his spine. The time stamp indicated it was earlier in the party, perhaps even minutes before the lights went out.
I know who you are, Iáson. Your secret is safe with me. I have a friend I'd like you to meet. He has an affliction. Not looking for a cure, but your ability and my tech -- we could have some fun. ~The Wicked Truth
Jensen's eyes narrowed as he read and re-read the message. ‘Iáson – the moniker felt like a brand, a label for the healer he was commanded to keep hidden. Who was this 'Wicked Truth'? How did they know about him? The message was cryptic, its intent unclear, but it hinted at firm awareness of Jensen's healing skill and suggested a proposition that Jensen wasn’t sure how to interpret. A knot formed in his stomach; he felt much the same way as he had when his blackmailer contacted him all those years ago in Dallas. Was this a threat as that had been or an opportunity?
He took a breath and decided to respond. You know who I am, but I don’t know who you are. If your intentions are noble, come find me face to face. He hit send just as the elevator stopped, and the doors opened.
Jensen took a deep breath, steeling himself. Stepping out of the elevator, he braced for the uncertainty of what awaited. It was a brief escape, but the real challenge of dealing with the night’s events was still ahead.
The elevator doors slid open quietly, and Jensen hesitated for a second before stepping in. Inside, the atmosphere was a strange mix of tension and forced normality. There was small talk, perhaps in an attempt to dispel the unease, but Jensen just couldn't join in. He leaned against the cool metal of the elevator’s back wall, feeling out of place, his mind racing.
He caught Ezvin's eye briefly, looking for some kind of silent reassurance. Having Ezvin there was a small comfort, but it didn’t lessen the weight of what had happened. His secret was out, at least partly, and he was already uncomfortable with being out in other ways. It hung over him like a cloud in the confined space of the elevator.
While the others made small talk, he discreetly pulled out his wallet, scrolling through the barrage of messages. One stood out — sending shivers down his spine. The time stamp indicated it was earlier in the party, perhaps even minutes before the lights went out.
I know who you are, Iáson. Your secret is safe with me. I have a friend I'd like you to meet. He has an affliction. Not looking for a cure, but your ability and my tech -- we could have some fun. ~The Wicked Truth
Jensen's eyes narrowed as he read and re-read the message. ‘Iáson – the moniker felt like a brand, a label for the healer he was commanded to keep hidden. Who was this 'Wicked Truth'? How did they know about him? The message was cryptic, its intent unclear, but it hinted at firm awareness of Jensen's healing skill and suggested a proposition that Jensen wasn’t sure how to interpret. A knot formed in his stomach; he felt much the same way as he had when his blackmailer contacted him all those years ago in Dallas. Was this a threat as that had been or an opportunity?
He took a breath and decided to respond. You know who I am, but I don’t know who you are. If your intentions are noble, come find me face to face. He hit send just as the elevator stopped, and the doors opened.
Jensen took a deep breath, steeling himself. Stepping out of the elevator, he braced for the uncertainty of what awaited. It was a brief escape, but the real challenge of dealing with the night’s events was still ahead.