String the Player

3.

"Approaching with caution," I say. "And mentally burying all the bodies while I'm at it."

"A lot to hide?"

"Enough that it's getting exhausting."

"Gives me all the more reason to dig deeper."

"Surprise me," I say, welcoming him into my lair of despair with open arms.

And he...

doesn't deliver.

"What do you do for a living?"

I stare at him for a long long time, trying to gauge if he's joking. That was a whole lot of build-up for something so mundane.

My lips twitch. "And here I thought my knight would be more fiery." I wiggle my fingers in his direction.

"Already something to hide, huh?" he says plainly.

"If I don't answer, will you think I do something super cool? Like a secret agent or spy." I'm not even going to mention cricket. Nuh-uh. Not happening.

"Maybe. Or I'll just jump to jobless incel."

I snort and spit out the first thing that pops into my head. "Panda hugger"

He blinks. I try to imitate his impassiveness.

"Better than a spy, that's for sure," he says.

"Fulfilling. I'll tell you that much. And what about you?"

"Porn star," he says it without missing a beat.

And there goes my imitation of him as I stare with my jaw hanging wide. I can't say if he's returning the favour of pretend occupations or if he actually is one. If he is, then I'll have to...

"What's your name?"

"Dan."

"No. What's your—"

"Locky Sins. You know, since I have..." He gestures to his silky as sin locks.

Alright, so pretend occupations it is.

"Okay, my turn," I say, and I'm about to ask my question when he interrupts.

"You already had your turn. Twice."

"Hey! Those don't count."

"Because I'm nice, I'll let you go this time. Consider this another notch on the favour tally."

"How altruistic." I hesitate for a moment. "Any hidden talents?"

"Yes."

"Which are?"

"And that's four questions in total."

"I'll blow you later, just answer."

If he's shocked by my curtness, he doesn't show it. "I play the violin."

I raise my brows. "Really?"

"You look surprised."

"Not surprised. Are you good?"

"A little bit."

I squint. "Didn't peg you to be modest."

"It is what it is."

"I don't know you well enough to know if you're telling the truth." For the previous question, he lied. But then again, so did I.

"Guess you don't have a choice," he says off-handedly.

"Or you could prove it to me."

"Sure. Get me a violin."

I grin. "One day. One day you're going to play for me." I don't know why I say it. And that too in such a determined manner. Once we're off this roof, I'm in no way going to contact him ever again.