A Miserable Pile of Secrets Ch. 04

"No thanks," Vince said. "I'm just giving my guest a tour of this general area." Then he led Arthur away, closing the door. "I feel kind of bad for the bartenders. They hardly ever do anything, but at least they get paid well."

Arthur sighed into the pillow he held. He probably didn't need to hold onto that pillow every minute of every day, but damn did he want to. "You have multiple bartenders and bars? And you hardly ever drink here?"

"Yep."

"You just bleed money, don't you?"

Another yep was all Arthur got.

The next room was a bare but stylish dining room. Then there was a luxurious kitchen that was so minimalist and abstract that Arthur couldn't quite figure out what was an appliance and what was a cabinet ... or what was even just a wall. That seemed to be the overall style of this place, modern, sleek, and kind of weird.

Unlike the other rooms Arthur had seen, this one had a window, and it was a big one. Actually, it was a sliding glass door. The view wasn't what Arthur had expected. He found a courtyard with pathways of wooden slats and pebbles with occasional patches of groomed grass. There was a shelter with a glass roof and polished patio furniture.

Around the courtyard, Arthur saw dark wooden and brick walls with doors and the rare window. Whenever there was a plant, it was usually very dense. Those plants were the most traditional things around, even though their vessels were pretty modern.

"I don't have a map for you," Vince said, as he gestured back towards the door to the hallway. "So if you get lost, you'll have to ask someone for help. When your brain's done resting, you can just text me."

The next room was a god damn theatre. No joke. It was small, with only ten seats, but there was a projection screen. There was even a connected concession area with copies of vintage movie posters on the wall. There weren't any staff. There was a popcorn machine, a drink machine, and sweets all stacked very neatly as if they were for sale, but there was nothing stopping anyone from just grabbing whatever one wanted. Arthur tried to sneak a chocolate bar away, but Vince gently took his wrist and said no.

Up next was a bowling alley. Vince admitted that he rarely bowled at all, but he liked having bowling alleys. He thought they looked cool. The next place was a gym with a huge indoor pool. The water looked so blue and so pretty that Arthur thought of tropical vacations.

Arthur yawned at this point and sat down on a random lounge chair that looked oddly thick. Within a few seconds, he figured out it was actually a massage chair. That was when Vince opened up his wheelchair and pointed at its seat. "Get in. You're not walking for the rest of the tour."

Assuming there would be no point in arguing, Arthur sat down in the wheelchair. Then he was rolled along at an easy speed. He almost felt like a king or something, but that feeling disappeared soon.

A library was next. There were four symmetrical shelves loaded with books. The shelves were protected by an interior wall with its own sliding doors, and the sitting area was next to the biggest windows Arthur had seen yet. He'd almost thought they were just large openings, that's how much glass there was. He once again saw an elegant courtyard, although this time he saw something a bit more classical. It was a white fountain of with a naked man seeming to pour water out of a pitcher.

And more rooms, and more rooms, and more, and Arthur couldn't believe there was anything left to see. He told Vince to stop the wheelchair, and then he got up. "Okay, I think that's enough. Besides, I'm getting pretty hungry."

Vince shrugged. "I'll take you back to a kitchen and fix something up for you."

"You don't have any private chefs?" Arthur teased.

"No, actually. That's one of the things I just don't have." Vince bent down to fold the wheelchair back up. "I could get one, but it's really more fun just to cook for myself, but the bartenders typically keep a bunch of crappy food just in case I come around wanting a good time."

Arthur wondered how much of that food was wasted. Then he wondered if the bartenders were allowed to keep any of it.

***

Vince kept Arthur company even after dinner was finished. He mostly sat with him in the sitting room with the sunken seats, chatting with him, trying to keep him entertained without overloading his brain. Eventually, Arthur had a moment of panic, because he couldn't remember where his keys were. That was when Vince pulled them out of who knows where. "Your car's not in a parking lot anymore, by the way. I had someone drive it here."

"It's in the garage?" Arthur said as he took the keys from Vince. "I didn't see it there."

"It's in another garage," Vince said as if that was the most boring thing in the world.

Arthur put a palm to his face and gave a drawn out, miserable exhale. "You have more than one garage?"

"Yep." Vince suddenly clapped his hands, not in a congratulatory way. "I forgot to ask. Would you like to have your stuff moved over here?"

Fiddling with his loud keys, Arthur asked, "What do you mean?"

"You're banned from games and stuff for maybe five days or so," Vince said, "but your rib will take weeks to heal. You might as well have your clothes, PC, and other stuff taken over here, right?"

Holding his house key between his fingers, Arthur considered the logic, and then he said, "Well, okay."

"And if you want, I can call your landlord. I could even pay your rent up to the end of the lease."

Arthur's feet, back and throat all tingled. He started pulling his house key off the metal ring. "There's no reason for you to do that."

"Why not?" Vince reached over and patted his shoulder. "You're pretty much unemployed right now, and I won't let you loose your home over some stupid shit." The moment when the key was separated, he plucked it out of Arthur's fingers. "It won't be a problem for me. As you said, I bleed money."

"But ... but what's the catch?"

Vince didn't answer at first.

Arthur jiggled and bounced his keys around.

Then he stared at a small fire in the fireplace.

And Vince finally asked with a soft voice, "Does everything need a catch?"

"Most things do, I guess."

"Well, this doesn't have a catch."

Arthur shrugged and turned his body away. He almost wished Vince wouldn't throw money and time at him. He was making it harder and harder for Arthur to ignore his childish crush.

***

Night.

Vince didn't like night in this house, but that couldn't be helped.

Idly thinking about Arthur, imagining him to be safely sleeping in bed, Vince walked into a quiet little office that was almost never used.

Almost.

He went to a black desk and opened a drawer. There was a plain, unassuming tablet with ear buds already plugged in waiting on him. Sitting down in an office chair, Vince put the ear buds in his ears and turned the tablet on. Later, he tapped in a password. Then he chose an app that also required a password.

The screen was blank.

But he heard desperate, wild screaming.

Vince's lips stretched very far, and he laughed.

He was downright giddy.

***