I return to the balcony, my haven, escaping the stifling laughter and music, the hideous soundtrack of my hell. My fingers itch to remove my mask, but they are frozen, grasping the railing as I stare down.
The buildings and traffic swim, a blurring of light and movement and sound that nearly obscures the click of the door closing behind me.
I am instantly tense, my spine fused with indignation and fear, and I know it's him.
The air is oppressive with expectation and possibility weighted down with animosity.
I just wish I knew why.
Deliberate, heavy footsteps draw closer.
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