18th October, 1894 — Destiny Hotel, Seeing Double

It had been months since she had seen Freddie Prewett and Gretchen was beginning to wonder whether any of it had been real at all. She had agreed to wait until he was established in society and that they simply must keep everything a secret; it had been exciting to begin with but the last time she had seen him she had sensed a change. Perhaps he had decided he could do better than a Lestrange outcast that - she cursed herself - he had already had multiple times?

She polished off her glass of champagne and dodged behind a portly man discussing the merits of investing in an elite, international Quodpot league with his friend when she spotted that her chaperone was looking for her. Gretchen had no intention of misbehaving more than she had but she was definitely not in the mood to be picked at for her posture. A few moments later she knew she was safe and so she slipped into the mirror maze.

"Are you lost? She enquired of the first person she met, a man who was staring at the mirrored reflections of himself with something that might have been despair. Or drunkenness. She was hardly an expert.

  

---

Bee is tremendous, isn't she?

Walking into the maze had seemed like an excellent idea when he came up with it. It solved a number of his problems namely that he was stuck at a social event and he suspected his name might be on a number of dance cards but damned if he could remember whose or which dance. It felt like a small escape within a situation he couldn't leave with the added bonus that if he did indeed miss a promised dance he could offer the excuse that he'd gotten lost in the maze and beg their forgiveness. Or whatever the appropriate response would be.

Each step took him blissfully farther away from benign inquiries of good health, inane remarks on the weather, or generous observations of the ballroom's decorations. However within the walls, the maze itself didn't offer as much of a reprieve as expected. Now, instead of being surrounded by small talk and the deafening expectations of his station, he was surrounded by passing silent figures and his own hollow reflection staring back at him.

He stared at the grown man, recognizing the figure as himself only out of habit and sheer will. A year had not been enough to settle the dissonance in his mind and he was starting to doubt any amount of time would. The figure he stared at shifted uneasily, straightening clothes he remembered donning earlier. A restless hand reached up to fret at curls he knew, only to think twice of it and drop again. 'Mine are impossible too.' he thought to the stranger in front of him with a light huff.

He wasn't sure when he stopped seeing his reflection as himself but a gentle and comfortable disconnect had slipped in and taken root, separating him from what stood before him better than most of the tonics and intoxicants he toyed with. As it turned out, being sober for the party had been one hell of a decision.

He and his reflection turned to the speaker who seemed both incredibly far away and unexpectedly close. "As much as one is supposed to be, I'm sure." he replied with a tone of light amusement as the last grounded part of his mind scrambled to pull him back together.

---

  

---

perfection by MJ <3

Had it not been for his tone of voice then Gretchen might have confused his statement for something that Cash would have said; being bleak and mournful were her cousin’s raison d’etre but he rarely followed it with a smile. Nor did that smile reflect in a dozen or more mirrors in such a pleasing way.

“I’d say one cannot be lost enough at gatherings such as this,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder to see the passageway she had come through had ceased to be. The only unfortunate thing was that the drinks were that way and she was now stranded, unfortunately sober, and with a man she barely knew. The former felt far more calamitous at the moment than the latter, though she doubted her guardians would see it that way.

  

---

Bee is tremendous, isn't she?