She had come to the conclusion that these were the strangest
employers she would ever had. It wasn't just the ridicule, she knew people
could be cruel, especially people who floated through life on their looks.
It was the little things. It was they way none of the workers really knew
them. They all spent so much time together, yet none of them knew anything
about the group and their inner circle. When the workers weren't
ridiculing her, they talked freely like she didn't exist. Their only goal
was to become part of that inner circle. Carmen was the latest from the
workers to join.
Another thing was the way the workers were ushered from the
arena immediately after the show. They were not allowed backstage.
She didn't really mind, the less time she spent with those fools, the
better. Before the show, no matter what the city, however, they all spent
the day working in a large, common room. These were the hours that seemed
unchanging and unending. Sometimes she would forget where she was, it all
seemed the same from one day to the next. Nick and the others trying like
hell to get a rise out of her, trying to make her break, becoming furious when
she wouldn't react to their taunts.
She couldn't care less what they said to her, she was in
heaven. She had seen more museums, more history in the few months she had
been with the group than in the rest of her years combined. The ridicule
continued from the workers, the group, the dancers, everyone, but she just
ignored it. Being alone was something she had long been accustomed
to. The sights and sounds of Europe more than made up for all of
it.
He had followed her through Europe, learning long ago that she
refused to turn around and search the crowds for him. He was with her in
every museum, every street corner, every bus, silently protecting her from the
dangers she couldn't see. Today he found her in the Louvre, sitting on a
bench near an arch surrounded by two huge winged Assyrian bulls. He could
read her face having seen it so many times before. She was thinking of the
past, of the history of what she was looking at. Every so often she would
stand and touch the stone, wonder in her eyes, wonder at how she was able to
touch something so ancient. He could feel her heart quicken at the
thought. The previous week he had followed her to Versailles. He
knew she spotted him in the Hall of Mirrors, but convinced herself that it was
just an illusion. Closing his eyes, he could still see her there,
surrounded by the splendor, yet more beautiful than any of it. He crept
closer to the bench she was sitting on until he was close enough to smell her
perfume, to hear her breathe. She shuddered and he knew she sensed
him. "I can feel you, you know" she whispered before she left
the room, heading to the next exhibit.
"I know" he whispered back as soon as she was out of
the room.