Burn // NH

1. What an Odd Child

I glared at the man in front of me. His jaw was sharp, eyes were glass, lips pulled tight. He probably thought I was judging him, and to be fair, he would be correct. I turned to the side to see him mimic my actions and pull at his tie in sync with my hand. His cuff links were laid crisp and were clasped around his wrists with perfection. I tilted my head to see him do the same, his perfectly edged shadow lining his prominent bone structure.

The phone at the desk rang twice, catching my attention. Turning from my reflection in the mirror, my black, Jimmy Choo Oxfords padded across the sleek marble tiles.

"Mr. Horan." Emily, my assistant, addressed once I'd answered the incoming call. "Ms. Mioré is here for her appointment."

My lips pursed in confusion. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Ellison Mioré." She stated again, however my silence was an obvious indication to continue. "The woman who was coming in to meet with you about your grant for the Royal Oaks Performance Academy."

"Ah, yes." I finally said, thinking back to the other day when I talked to Ellison over the phone. She seemed like a well mannered and mature older lady. "Send her in immediately." I firmly pressed the phone back down and flattened out the front of my suit before taking a seat in my big, black, leather chair. Spinning to the side, my eyes glanced out my large windows which over looked the glamorous, yet very chaotic city of New York.

This view has always been my favorite. With the people rushing and cars backed up for miles— when you're away from it all, you can't help but to be in awe at the sight.

"Mr. Horan?" I spun back around to see Emily's short blonde hair hanging in her face as she peeked her head in between the crack of the dark, cherry wood door. She pushed it open more, revealing her black and white attire. A binder was held between her chest and forearm as she glanced down. "After your meeting, you have a lunch break, then you have to be at the courthouse at two, you have dinner scheduled tonight with your parents at six at Per Se, and-" she glanced up with a smile, "Mr. Mark Colen will be here at eleven a.m. tomorrow morning."

I mentally took note of my schedule before politely telling Emily thank you and welcoming Ellison into my office.

She was a lot younger than I expected. And shorter, if I do add. On top of that her outfit choice made me want to cringe. She had long, Auburn hair that was pulled back with a thin headband and spiraled around her round face She was wearing a plain white, tight shirt that barely covered her stomach, and blue jeans which looked to be chewed by a bat. On top of that, her black muddy converse were no look for my sleek and spotlessly clean office.

The air was quiet and dense as the only sound was the clock ticking against the back wall near the bookshelf. I had just about every reference book or encyclopedia one could possibly think of on that shelf.

"So tell me, Ellison-" I broke the dead calm. I could sense she was nervous as she looked around and folded her fingers, clearly feeling small in my presence.

"Um, it's just Ellie." She interrupted causing my eyebrows to shoot up and body to become firm.

No one, and I mean no one interrupts me.

"Excuse me. As I was saying," I directed louder— more stiff, "why should I chose to grant Royal Oaks with my money over any of the other schools that have been offered the same opportunity?"

"Uh-um-" she stuttered, her deep green eyes fixed on my blue ones before she cleared her throat. "Well, I am the lead student director for the arts program and I feel that with your help, the students would be able to expose themselves to the world in a unique way. You see, students with great talent come to Royal Oaks from all over the world expecting to stand out, and in the past standing out wasn't hard. However, with the economy dropping over these past few years, the fundings for our programs has become limited." Ellison glanced up before quickly adverting her eyes back to my folded hands which were placed in the desk in front of me.

"Our traveling has become very scarce, our shows have transformed into local only, and the number of students coming in yearly has been decreasing by the hundreds because people cannot simply afford tuition due to our prices being raised to run the facility." She continued. After, Ellison looked up again, her dark lashes fanning out perfectly against her eyelids.

"You said, "expose themselves", by that, what do you mean?" I asked, my lips pressing into a firm, flat line.

"Well, students would be able to travel across the world to perform as they did in the past. Because-" I did not like how she started with 'because'. "Royal Oaks is an all artistic performance school, only the best of the best are selected. Which means that those turning down the opportunity due to financial stability issues are loosing their opportunities to show what they have to offer. These students are not just an ordinary body of college kids. These students are hard working, very dedicated, and they all have a passion for what they do; whether that be music, dance, or theater. They are very talented and the world deserves to hear and see them."

I rubbed my thumbs together, my eyes once again catching hers. I cannot stand the fact that she does not give direct eye contact one hundred percent of the time. "And what would I be getting out of this if I did decide to award your school?"

"Well, we are very good at what we do. People love to come and watch and we draw in a large crowd every night-"

"How large?"

"At least 35,000 dollars. Tickets go on sale a week before the show. Adult tickets are fifty dollars each, senior tickets are thirty each, and child tickets are twenty five each. That's a full house every show, if not more."

I pursed my lips, thinking it over. "You gather a full house every night?"

"Every night. The shows usually go on between four and seven days each." She informed, her eyes looking hopeful. "If you gave us this grant, your money would be doubled in no time and could even help us build a new town theater for our local performances in order to gather an even larger crowd."

I hummed before reaching up to scratch my rough jaw. Her curious eyes followed my hand. "Thank you, Ellison, I will take that into consideration." I stated and watched her close her eyes for a long second before opening them again as if to control herself.

"Thank you, Mr. Horan."

"I will be stopping by first thing Monday morning to take a look into the school." She nodded. "Don't disappoint. You may leave." I gave firm instructions and watched as she quickly stood. She gave me one last look before turning and quickly scurrying out the door, allowing it to close with a heavy clasp.

I let out a deep sigh and called Emily at the front desk. "Sir." She picked up, waiting for her orders.

"Put Royal Oaks on my calendar for Monday morning at nine."

"Consider it done." She spoke through the speaker as I ventured back over to my glass wall, looking out over the horizon.

"Also, send Mary to bring me my caesar salad and a hot cup of coffee." I rubbed my scruff, my eyes casting down to see Ellison pace out of the building, shaking out her hands as if that was the most frightening and nerve-wracking conversation she'd had. Probably was. And it should've been.

"Right on it, Sir. Anything else?"

"That'll be all," I concluded, my eyes never once leaving the girl. What an odd child...