"Off Script with My Rival" Practice Date
Roman picked Elliot up at noon and handed him a coffee as soon as he entered the car.
"You look better."
"I slept."
Roman glanced at the shadows beneath his eyes. "Of course."
Elliot took the coffee and let the subject drop.
They drove through downtown, passed the studio and continued toward the waterfront.
"Where are we going?"
Roman kept his attention on the road. "You'll see."
The building resembled an abandoned warehouse. Its exterior walls were painted black, and a neon sign above the entrance read
THE VAULT
.
Elliot stared through the windshield. "You brought me to a haunted house."
"An immersive horror experience."
"I hate horror."
"I remember."
Roman got out of the car.
Elliot followed him inside, questioning every decision that had brought him there.
The lobby glowed beneath dim red lights. A woman wearing black lipstick greeted them from behind the counter.
"Two tickets?"
Roman took out his wallet. "For me and my boyfriend."
Elliot turned toward him.
The woman smiled. "Then you qualify for the couples discount."
Her attention moved to Elliot. "Is that okay?"
He thought about his bank balance. "Fine."
Roman paid before Elliot could reconsider.
An employee explained the rules: no phones, no flashlights and no separating once they entered.
A black door opened beside the counter.
The first room resembled an abandoned hospital. Broken beds stood beneath flickering lights, and dark stains covered the tiled walls.
"This is ridiculous," Elliot whispered.
Roman held out his hand.
Elliot looked at it.
A scream echoed from the next room.
He took Roman's hand.
They passed through a morgue, a ruined chapel and a hallway lined with doors that slammed without warning. Elliot's grip tightened each time something moved in the darkness.
Roman never mentioned it.
In the chapel, a masked actor appeared from behind a pew. Elliot stumbled backward and collided with Roman.
Roman caught him around the waist.
"I'm fine," Elliot said.
His voice sounded unconvincing even to him.
Roman released his waist but kept hold of his hand. "Come on."
The next section led them into a narrow maze. Walls shifted behind them, closing paths they had already taken.
Elliot's breathing quickened.
He reached for his wrist.
Roman caught his hand before he could grip it. "I'm here."
"I can't see where we're going."
"We keep moving until we find the exit."
"How comforting."
Roman guided him around another corner.
"You still do that when you're nervous," he said.
Elliot looked at their joined hands. "Do what?"
"Hold your wrist."
Elliot had not noticed the movement.
"How do you remember that?"
Roman continued through the maze without answering.
The final room was a long corridor filled with strobe lights and pounding music. A figure dressed in black charged toward them.
Elliot froze.
Roman pulled him aside and covered his eyes with one hand. Elliot felt Roman's body between him and the approaching actor.
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"Keep moving," Roman said near his ear.
The figure passed them.
The music stopped, and the overhead lights came on.
"End of experience," a recorded voice announced.
Roman lowered his hand.
Their faces were close enough for Elliot to feel his breath.
"You all right?"
Elliot nodded.
Roman stepped away first.
Outside, daylight reflected painfully from the wet pavement.
"That was awful," Elliot said.
"You finished it."
"I survived through blind luck and poor judgment."
Roman smiled.
The expression changed his entire face. Elliot looked away before Roman could catch him staring.
They bought takeout and carried it to a bench beside the harbor. Boats moved slowly across the water while gulls circled above the docks.
Roman opened his rice. "You hated closed spaces in college."
Elliot paused with his fork inside the noodle container. "I never told you that."
"Freshman year. You couldn't sleep with the bedroom door shut."
"That was one night."
"It was most of the semester."
Elliot studied him. "Were you keeping records?"
Roman picked at his food. "I remember things."
"You remember what I ate, where I sat and what I did when I was nervous."
Roman's gaze remained on the harbor.
Elliot set down his container. "Why?"
"I paid attention."
"To me?"
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
Elliot looked across the water. During college, he had believed Roman barely tolerated him. Roman had spent most meals surrounded by people and rarely crossed the dining hall to speak to him.
"You acted like I didn't exist."
"I thought you wanted space."
"I thought you were avoiding me."
Roman folded the top of his empty container. "We misunderstood each other."
"That doesn't explain everything."
"No."
Elliot waited.
Roman gathered the trash and stood. "You aren't ready for the rest."
"You don't get to decide that."
Roman's hand tightened around the containers. He seemed close to saying something, but the moment passed.
"Let's go," he said.
They drove back in silence.
Roman stopped outside Elliot's building and left the engine running. Elliot unfastened his seat belt.
"Thank you for today."
Roman nodded.
Elliot reached for the door.
"The fifth rule," Roman said.
Elliot looked back.
"No feelings," Roman continued. "I'm trying to respect it."
The words settled between them.
Elliot searched Roman's face. "Are you having trouble?"
Roman looked toward the windshield.
Elliot waited, but Roman offered no answer.
He got out and closed the door.
Roman's car remained at the curb until Elliot entered the building.
That night, Elliot lay awake remembering Roman's hand around his and the quiet admission beside the harbor.
Shortly after midnight, his phone lit up.
You're overthinking.
Elliot typed back.
How do you know?
Roman replied almost immediately.
I know you.
Elliot read the message several times before placing the phone beside his pillow.
This arrangement was supposed to make Roman feel familiar.
It was making Elliot question how much of Roman he had ever understood.
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