Chapter Eight

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Chapter Eight (Alexander)

The opera house was crowded, but thankfully not as crowded as the rock concert.

Not to mention, these people were impeccably dressed. In fact, this was practically my home terf compared to the rock concert. I felt way more comfortable with elbow room and in a silk black suit as I stood by Storm and Mark near the entrance into the main hall. From inside, I could already hear the violinist beginning her songs to greet the crowds that were coming in.

"I can't tell what's worse," Mark grumbled from beside me, "This or the rock concert." Which was completely understandable. Mark wasn't used to this sort of thing. He, for lack of better words, was a delinquent deep inside. He prefered casual jeans and graphic t-shirts to the black suit he wore. He kept tugging at the tie around his neck, loosening it, only to have Storm tighten it back up for him.

"Personally, I prefer this." I told him as I scanned the crowds in hopes of spotting the Moretti's, but they were nowhere in sight. Maybe it was a coincidence that another opera house was having a showing at the same time.

"You're a purebred," Mark said suddenly, making me glance at him to see him watching Storm greet someone, "I'm not. It's like bringing a mutt into an expensive dog show." I sighed, following his gaze to Storm before looking back at him.

"Don't worry, Mark. Storm doesn't care that you like rock concerts and jump up and down on the hotel beds, or even that you slurp your pasta down your throat, then take it back out. Even though that's really gross."

"I can't help it! It's just how it is... And says you, Storm's still mad at me about last night."

"What about what Slade said about Storm's plans for tonight after we get back?" I pointed out, folding my arms over my chest for a moment before lowering them as Mark's cheeks turned a brilliant shade of pink and he cleared his throat, not saying a word as Storm came back to us, looking a little tired of greeting people.

"Let's head up to our booth." He advised, then took Mark's hand. I watched Mark's face light up at the attention as he let Storm lead the way down the hallway and up a couple flights of stairs. I followed close behind, nodding my head respectfully to the older humans that walked by, smiling at us. Storm opened one of the double doors to our booth as we came inside and shut the door.

Vladimir surprised us by already being there, sitting in the red velvet seat. He looked as handsome as usual with his dark hair properly gelled away from his face, giving more of a view of his bright blue eyes that watched the stage below.

The stage was huge with a section up front and a few steps lower for the orchestra. In front of the stage were a good three hundred seats and along the walls were the booths of other richer attenders. I didn't stay standing for too long to look, though, as I took a seat by Vladimir, who was watching me now. I had a feeling he wanted me to sit next to him anyway.

"You look beautiful." I glanced at Vladimir, who kept his eyes on me, ignoring the violinist and the people murmuring down below.

"The show's going to start soon." I answered, ignoring his comment. Vladimir gave a nod, looking away toward the violinist, who was beginning her next piece. I recognized the tune, but not the name of the song as we sat there in silence before Vladimir leaned toward me, not once taking his eyes away from the woman.

"The name of this tune is The Devil's Trill. It's said to be one of the most difficult pieces to play." Vladimir commented, making me glance at him, then back at the violinist, who was vigorously playing with her eyes closed, brow furrowed. The tune actually made a cold chill course up my spine as I watched before I caught movement out the corner of my eye, making me look up.

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