The deafening noise of the party muted as he closed the heavy door. His back thudded against the door, head soon following. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out, soaking up what little peace he could find.
Muted as it was, the pulse of the music remained audible with an unsteady beating that shook the floor beneath him. He sighed in slight defeat and opened his eyes, curious as to where exactly he’d ended up.
The room was bare, a foyer, he guessed. With his back to the entrance, he faced another door that was built under stairs. Oddly enough, that was it. An entire room dedicated to the stairs and a small closet under them.
Pushing himself off the door, he slowly made his way over to the cupboard and noticed something off. The doorknob looked exactly like the doorknob he’d just used to come into this room.
He turned around to confirm that the knob on the inside of his escape-door was actually different than it should have been. Someone had switched the knobs. Weird.
It took little effort to pull the small door open when it’s knob didn’t fit the latch and it wasn’t any more of a challenge to continue exploring.
Inside the cupboard, though, was nothing more than an old, wooden chest sitting innocently at the back of the small space. Upon trying to open it, he found it locked and let out another sigh. So much for finding something interesting.
“And what do you thing you’re doing?”
The sharp words startled him enough that he jumped as he flung himself around to face the threat. Heart still hammering, he exhaled with his hands on his hips and a breathless laugh.
“You scared me.”
Eyes narrowing suspiciously, the newcomer observed the scene he stumbled upon. “Why are you trying to poke into things you shouldn’t be?”
Evan cast a look around him as understanding broke through. “This is yours...sorry I didn’t really think about it. I was just trying to get away from that-“ he gestured to the pounding door “-and got curious.”
“Sounds perfectly believable,” Mark said, dripping with sarcasm. His voice hardened again. “Let me sate you’re curiosity by saying there is nothing but boots in that chest. Now, then, we have a celebration to get back to and you have admirers who have been, no doubt, searching high and low since the moment you slipped away.”
“Yeah,” Evan agreed, disheartened.
This response caught the attention of the other. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” He scoffed. “Not enough action for you? Maybe you’d rather be out causing fights and wreaking havoc.” His words were harsh and meant to offend, but he’d expected the boy to glare or snap back or even agree. He didn’t expect the falling of shoulders and thick air of depression to emanate.
“Yeah,” he said again, weaker. Evan didn’t bother trying to hide his emotions, but it went without argument that it felt weird to be open with the once-rival. “You’re right. Sorry for wandering around your place.” He didn’t make eye contact as he passed by the taller man, but he didn’t gesture back to the cupboard. “The doorknob is broken.”
“What?” Mark blinked and, upon closer inspection, the boy was right. Who could have done that?
Hearing the other sound so confused, Evan turned back. “Want me to fix it? I’m a good handy-man.”
Suspicion creeped back into narrowed eyes as Mark regarded the boy. “And why exactly would you help me? What’s in it for you?”
Thin shoulders shrugged before dropping back into their slump. “Aren’t we all on the same team now?”
“Ah, I see. You’re only trying to keep me complacent to your ideals and decisions by catering to me and racking up debt in my name. No, I’d rather try to fix it myself.”
Mark’s scathing comment was met with confusion. “What are you talking about? I just offered to fix a doorknob.”
“Did you really?” His words were laced with disbelief and pride, but still, the boy didn’t react to them. Was this really the same kid who’d been so determined and righteous as to go head to head against him?
“Yes.”
The answer was simple and, to be honest, a bit lifeless. Mark couldn’t find it in himself to turn him down. His hand raised towards the closet door. “Then go right ahead.”
Evan nodded and retrieved the misplaced doorknob before turning towards the closet. He made quick work of replacing the correct knob and tightening the loose screw as best he could with his fingers. “Ta-da,” he said without inflection in his voice.
Mark stood silently, watching the boy move to return the doorknob in his hands to the entrance and fit it into place.
His hand remained on the door as a sign sunk his posture even farther. He really didn’t want to go back out there.
“Where did you learn to do that?”
It was a stupid question and Mark didn’t know why he’d asked it, but there was an aching feeling in his stomach demanding that the boy stay here.
Evan moved away from the door to face him, all evidence of the depression gone and a small, patient smile in its place. “I taught myself, I guess.”
“Broke too many doorknobs to replace? I assume your parents have gone bankrupt keeping up with your destruction.
The smile never wavered, but something in the boy’s expression instilled in Mark a heavy guilt.
The man sighed, uncomfortable with the odd feeling in the room. “I apologize. I shouldn’t try to antagonize you. We are allies, after all.”
Still, that smile remained. “Can I tell you a secret?” Even asked softly.
Caught off guard, it took Mark a moment to respond. With a slow nod. “Are you so sure I can be trusted with anything? It’s not like we’ve been honest with each other before.”
“You said it yourself,” Evan said. “We’re allies now.” He moved closer to the stairs and gestured for the man to follow him as he sat on one of the steps. It’s was a bit quieter. Perfect for quiet conversations.
Once Mark had taken a seat beside him, Evan began to fiddle with the bands on his arms.
“You know,” he said absently, “I never wanted to fight you. It’s funny, how someone’s parents’ battle becomes their own. A kid’d do anything to follow in the footsteps of people better than them, even if they don’t really want to grow up to be the same. They just want to make their parents proud and to prove that they’re worth all the trouble they cause.”
Mark staying silent, absorbing every slow admittance being uttered from the boy he thought at one point was his enemy. The puzzle pieces that were being shifted into place were revealing a...frightening picture, but he let the boy continue.
“I was so excited to tell them about my abilities. I didn’t even know what they were or how they worked, I just couldn’t wait to show them how useful I could be. They worked so hard and I was tired of being a burden. I wanted to help. That’s all.” Evan let out a bitter laugh. “Who knew that they were just looking for a target. All things considered, I made them proud. Don’t you think? I mean, you were fooled.”
He’d finally removed the brace from his wrist and began to roll the sleeve up his arm to reveal white bandages.
Mark sat for a moment wondering when their last row was and if he’d landed an attack on the boy’s wrist, but it was hard to consider when his mind was whirling with the new information. The heavy feeling in his stomach had solidified to a stone.
That stone became an anchor when the unrolled bandages revealed thin, purposeful marks cast from the boy’s wrist and up to his elbow; some scared several times over, others scabbed, a few still bleeding.
He didn’t consider his actions as he gently snatched the limb and pulled it to himself. Whether he did it to get a better look, confirm this wasn’t a nightmare, or to protect it from further harm; he wasn't sure.
Evan continued talking as if he hadn’t just uncovered something so important. “It was fun at first, feeling useful, feeling worthy. I can’t really remember when that changed. When fights- our fights -became more one-sided. I just...I don’t want to fight anymore. I never did to begin with. I’ve hurt people and, you’re right, I break everything I touch. I don’t want to,” another heavy laugh, “isn’t it ironic that the more power I got, the less power I had? The more control I built over my abilities, the less control I had over everything else? That’s what irony is, isn’t it?”
A small sound escaped when the boy took his next breath and Mark’s wide eyes caught a tear running down the boy’s thin cheek. Gods, how had he never notice how small his rival was?
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