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[color=d3d3d3]The waiter was back almost as quick as he’d gone, lowering his tray to set the glass in front of Valerian. Reluctant to leave his seat, he watched the other vampires already trying to make connections. Probably best to do it here, before every vampire dispersed in a frenzy back to New York. That was when the whole game would really kick off.

His phone buzzed against his hip again, Val turning his gaze towards it irritably. Hadn’t he already told his assistant he didn’t want to be disturbed? If this was another problem from work, someone was going to get fired. Would it be too much to ask to handle one crisis at a time?

A bit roughly, he pulled out his phone and scanned the notification. It was from an unknown number, which was strange. Anyone who had any business contacting him should already be in his contacts.

[quote=Unknown][b][color=7ea7d8]I need to talk to you about a scarf, a guitar and heart shaped glasses. Meet me in room 312.[/color][/b][/quote]

Val knew what the words meant immediately, his stomach sinking. Was Aria in trouble? The urge to sprint to room 312 almost had him flying out of his chair, but he restrained himself, setting the phone on the table to stare at the notification blankly.

Even after all this time, Aria still had him wrapped around her little finger. Was he ever going to stop masquerading as her knight in shining armor? The mess his life had been for the past fifty years was all because of her, and yet he’d still drop everything to help her. Even after she’d betrayed him. No matter what he did, regardless of how composed he stayed, Val knew it all meant nothing. His one weakness was always exposed, and as long as they had Aria he’d never be able to stop walking on eggshells.

A bit woefully, he left his half finished drink at the table, grabbed his phone, and made his way to room 312. As urgent as the situation felt, it wouldn’t look good if the royal prince made a scene. That’d only serve to put on an image of weakness.

Once out of the room, Val finally felt as if he could take a breather. Less staring, judgemental eyes. He smoothed a stray strand of hair away from his face, as if that would do anything to calm him. It didn’t. What a cruel game to play, dredging up memories of the best and worst day of his life. If this were some kind of sick joke, Val wasn’t sure what he’d do. All this was probably just his father making sure Val was still under his thumb, even after cutting ties with him. Part of him almost made him turn back, not sure he’d want to go through the humiliation of showing up to an empty room, knowing his father was laughing at his idiocy somewhere. Even if Aria was in trouble, maybe it wasn’t any of his business. No doubt she had a new life now, Val long forgotten in her memories. The thought felt like being stabbed in the stomach.

Room 312 was left ajar, as if expecting a visitor. Val hesitated outside, his hand pressed against the wood. Maybe this was all a bad idea. No one would know anything about that night, so the fact that [i]somehow someone did[/i] was all very unnerving. Pushing away any residual doubts, Val opened the door, the wood creaking at the hinges.[/color]

[color=99c1c3]”I’m here.”[/color][color=d3d3d3] Val nudged the door shut behind him with a foot, confused to find no one there to greet him in the living room. He paced around the room, increasingly unsure when no one was in the kitchen. The bedroom door was open slightly, though. Maybe the messenger was in there?

The scene in front of him was the last thing Val expected to see. Ridiculous amounts of blood covered the bedspread, her face, stickily clumping her hair together as it dried. Valerian was no stranger to death, but this was just excessive. Her skull was no doubt fractured, by whatever had killed her. Her face was barely visible ruined by an incredible amount of force, obscured by coagulating blood. Val realized with a sick, sinking feeling who she was. She was the lady who’d waved at him only a half an hour ago.

Val did his best to commit the scene to memory. Anything that would help him figure out what was going on here. Her shoes were still on, so she couldn’t have been lying down. It seemed like something a force had knocked her backwards, sprawling her out on the bed. Her left eye socket seemed to have been destroyed, as if something had been shoved in there. What it could have been, Val couldn’t tell. Nothing seemed out of place around the body, except...

A pair of polaroids were scattered around her body, and Val reached over her to grab them. Blood dripped off of them onto the thick covers below. He grabbed the corner of one to wipe the picture clean. [i]Aria.[/i] That was her, definitely. The other, Aria again but- was that someone else? It was Aria at the beach, hand intertwined with another man’s, foreheads pressed together as they stared into each other’s eyes. A soggy grin plastered her face, illuminated as the sun set between the pair. Val stared at the picture, minutes passing as he tried to make sense of it. It felt like someone was holding his throat closed.[/color]

[color=99c1c3]”No. Please, no.”[/color] [color=d3d3d3]This couldn’t be right at all. Aria loved the beach. She loved to going to the beach with [i]him[/i], not whoever this guy was. Ice settled in the pit of his gut, Val’s face unreadable save for a frown. Fifty years, and Aria had moved on. He couldn’t even be mad about it. Only a fool would stay stuck in the past.[/color]

[color=99c1c3][i]When will you ever stop being so naive?[/i][/color][color=d3d3d3] Of course she’d forgotten him. Val was the only one still living in the past. That was the only thing that seemed to make sense right now. He still had a dead girl on his hands, and he’d never heard what she’d had to say. Was she here to tell him Aria had long since moved on? But then, why would she be dead?

The bedroom door opened behind him, and Val whipped around much more jumpily than he’d have liked to admit. The whole scene had him on edge. Two men in black scrubs pushed past him, barely even glancing at him. The body they picked up indifferently, zipping it shut in a body bag. The bedding they bundled together into a hamper.[/color]
[color=ed1c24]”You need to leave, sir.”[/color]

[color=99c1c3]”Like fuck I need to leave! I need to know what’s just gone on here.”[/color]

[color=ed1c24]”If you care about Aria, you’ll leave here, and keep your mouth shut.”[/color]

Val stared at them, dumbfounded and cowed into submission. His gaze switched between the pair, neither responding, as if he were a child throwing a tantrum over a cookie. Without another word, he backed out of the room, shutting room 312 behind him. 

So his father was in on this, then? He shoved the polaroids into his suit pocket, the only evidence he’d gotten from the scene. He had to find Aria. Not because he cared, or anything, because he didn’t. He could move on too, just as good as anyone else. He was only going because he needed to get Aria out of there. So he could move on with his life, and not have her held over his head anymore. That’s what he was doing. This [i]wasn’t[/i] about her.