He was lost for words, for all words were worth, his breath taken from him. What had happened to have it come to this? What had he done?
No, he could not stand to stay here any longer. He had to leave this place. Had to escape the deafening piano that would forever haunt him from this night forward, had to escape that voice, that angelic voice that would eternally rasp his heart now and forever.
He strided blindly, stumbling through the crowd, pushing his way through. The door... The door...
Brushing and colliding with the wealthy, the elegant, his eyes kept low. The top hats, the gowns, the cigars, the wine. Oh, the glamour of this place.
Lara, these are your people, not mine. Cursed memories.
He pushed through the swinging doorways of the hotel and out into the open air, making him gasp. Crisp, cold air. Rain fell hard, drowning the sidewalks and streets. Nevertheless, people still navigated their way through the mess, no doubt to see Lara's performance.
He was the only one to be walking away from the hotel theatre that night.
He longed to be further from here. Further still from the concert hall's echoing music. He shoved his hands in his pockets and impulsively took direction down Main Street, intent on heading nowhere for he had nowhere to go.
((Indeed, it's lame. Yeah? See if you can do better? I left holes for you to patch in.))
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