Gansey missed the Phantom immediately. He had turned around not once, not twice, but three times ready to return before he even got all that far. Then he chided himself. He'd been missing for days and there was no doubt that his family and the managers of his favorite Opera House were worried sick.
When he returned to them on the brink of morning, he lied through his teeth and told them a fantastical tale of getting distracted on one of his adventures. It was a passable lie. Going off on his own for some time wasn't totally unusual—only he usually warned them first.
The only one who stared at him in an unnerving way was one of the stage hands. A man that had once come from a family of wealth, he was reduced to nothing when his family lost it all, now left abandoned to clean dead rats from backstage. His name, Gansey believed, was Barrington Whelk. The look in his eyes as he studied him was one that made Gansey distinctly uncomfortable, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't because he got the sense that the man knew he was lying. It was something else.
Gansey avoided him.
After some hours, after he'd been left alone again, his ache for the Phantom had grown to an almost intolerable point. Which was why he collected some of his journals and began to explore the way the Phantom had shown him to return, this time giving his family warning that he was off to adventure once more. They wouldn't think to miss him this time.
"Ghost?" His voice was coaxing, and he held his books tight to his chest when he wasn't using a hand to trace along a wall.
no subject
Gansey missed the Phantom immediately. He had turned around not once, not twice, but three times ready to return before he even got all that far. Then he chided himself. He'd been missing for days and there was no doubt that his family and the managers of his favorite Opera House were worried sick.
When he returned to them on the brink of morning, he lied through his teeth and told them a fantastical tale of getting distracted on one of his adventures. It was a passable lie. Going off on his own for some time wasn't totally unusual—only he usually warned them first.
The only one who stared at him in an unnerving way was one of the stage hands. A man that had once come from a family of wealth, he was reduced to nothing when his family lost it all, now left abandoned to clean dead rats from backstage. His name, Gansey believed, was Barrington Whelk. The look in his eyes as he studied him was one that made Gansey distinctly uncomfortable, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't because he got the sense that the man knew he was lying. It was something else.
Gansey avoided him.
After some hours, after he'd been left alone again, his ache for the Phantom had grown to an almost intolerable point. Which was why he collected some of his journals and began to explore the way the Phantom had shown him to return, this time giving his family warning that he was off to adventure once more. They wouldn't think to miss him this time.
"Ghost?" His voice was coaxing, and he held his books tight to his chest when he wasn't using a hand to trace along a wall.