falling for him silently

Between the Curtains

**Chapter Two: **

**Alicia**

The silk was gone. The ballroom was behind me.

I ran.

Not because I was weak—but because my instincts had screamed louder than any polite smile I could fake. The moment the curtain fell and the gavel struck, I slipped past the stage exit, pulled off the heels, and vanished into the night like a shadow with a heartbeat.

The city had always been loud—but tonight, it pulsed.

I ran barefoot across unfamiliar streets, ignoring stares. My breath caught in my throat. My legs trembled. But I didn’t stop until I found a narrow alley behind a closed flower shop, where the only witnesses were wilting petals and the soft hum of streetlamps.

My back slid down the wall as I collapsed to the cold ground, clutching the pearl necklace that I hadn’t realized I still wore. My pulse was wild. My mind louder.

What had I just done?

I didn’t even know who he was. That man. The stranger who bought me with a single sentence.

And yet… I remembered his eyes.

He didn’t look like the others. He didn’t smirk or gloat. He just looked at me—like I was something broken he wanted to fix.

But I didn’t want to be fixed. Not by anyone.

I just wanted to disappear.

---

**Travis**

She was gone.

By the time I reached the back corridor, the stage was empty, the air heavy with perfume and tension. One of the attendants stuttered something about the girl running off, that she seemed frightened, that she hadn’t waited to be escorted.

I didn’t speak. I just turned to Mika.

“Find her,” I said.

Mika raised a brow. “Should I bring her to the suite?”

“No.”

“Then—”

“Just make sure she’s safe. She’s scared. Don’t make it worse.”

Mika nodded once and vanished into the crowd.

I stayed behind, staring at the spot where she once stood. Something about the girl clung to my memory like smoke—soft, ungraspable, and lingering long after it should’ve faded.

Most people spend their whole lives trying to be seen.

She looked terrified that someone finally did.

---

**Alicia**

I didn’t know how long I sat there. Long enough for the city to quiet. Long enough for the night to stretch thin and tired.

Then, a shadow moved.

I stiffened. A man stepped into the alley, but he didn’t approach immediately. He waited under the soft glow of the streetlight, hands in the pockets of his coat.

“Miss Alicia.”

My heart jumped. “Who are you?”

“I’m Mika. Mr. Blackwood sent me.”

Blackwood. The name hit something in my chest.

“He’s not going to hurt you,” Mika said gently. “He didn’t expect this either. He just… wants to know you’re alright.”

I didn’t reply.

He stepped closer, slowly, like approaching a wild creature. “There’s a car waiting. Warm. Quiet. No strings. Just a place to rest.”

I hesitated.

“I’ll sit up front. You’ll have your space,” he added.

I studied him. He didn’t look like a man who lied. And something in his calmness made the air feel less sharp.

Finally, I stood, brushing off my borrowed gown.

Mika opened the door to a sleek black vehicle. I slid into the back seat. Soft leather. Silence.

For the first time all night, no one stared at me.

The city rolled by in quiet rhythm.

And when we stopped at a tall glass building with no signs or paparazzi, Mika handed me a keycard.

“He said you’d know when you’re ready to talk.”

---

The suite was enormous.

Soft lights, gentle heat, silence like a lullaby.

The closet had a change of clothes—simple, clean, warm. I changed out of the gown and stood barefoot on polished floors, my toes sinking into the rug like clouds.

I found tea in the kitchen. Lavender chamomile. It smelled like safety.

There was a note on the counter:

*Stay as long as you need. No debt. No rush.*

Signed: T.

I stared at it for a long time.

He hadn’t chased me.

He hadn’t demanded.

He just gave me space.

A stranger.

And yet…

I curled on the velvet chaise by the window, watching the lights below flicker like stars in a man-made sky. Something fragile, but not broken. Like me.

Maybe this was temporary.

Maybe this was a mistake.

But for now, I let myself rest.

For the first time in years, I wasn’t a healer.

Or an orphan.

Or a product to be sold.

Just Alicia.

And that was enough.

---

**END OF CHAPTER TWO**