Chapter Fourteen
It was a new day for Jenna. Well, with the way time worked around here, it was one long day, or maybe many overlapping days. Days bled into each other and didn't make much sense. Regardless, she was awake and ready to begin working as she always did. She got breakfast from the kitchen and only narrowly avoided having to eat with Suki. Jenna considered herself lucky when she was able to eat alone. It was peaceful. It wasn't that she hated people, she just felt incredibly uncomfortable to be around such a great number of people that she didn't know. She knew that to trust you or Don was a risk, but if she didn't have anyone in the house, she might go crazy.
She sighed. From what she knew about you and Don (which was admittedly not much), she couldn't trust the pair of you completely. If she discovered something incriminating, she'd have to keep it to herself until she had sufficient evidence. Otherwise, it was possible that you and Don wouldn't trust her. Even worse—the pair of you could betray you. It's hard to work alone, but she refused to sit idly in this situation.
Jenna decided today would be a good day to find some unfound rooms. It wasn't too suspicious to want to learn about your surroundings, so even if Quince foiled her plans again, she would have a good excuse. "I wonder why the attic is off limits, anyway," she thought. "But...I don't want to break a rule unless I feel it is absolutely necessary. Maybe later." With that in mind, she made her way to the hallway near the library. The hallways seemed to change when no one was looking, which made exploring a bit of a mess. Anytime she asked someone about it, they waved it off as hallucinations. It made her confused. Her mind was a bit of a mess, but there were some undeniable truths she had gathered thus far: 1.) There were several books in the library with pages torn out. Why? Was someone saving information—or hiding it? 2.) There were no telephones or other ways of long-distance communication in the house. She mentioned this to Quince once, and he insisted that such things made him uncomfortable. "I died in the eighties, Jenna. We didn't have those things, so I would really prefer to just leave them out." This seemed selfish, but somewhat acceptable. 3.) Some rooms were not always were you left them. She didn't care if everyone told her she was hallucinating, she was absolutely sure some of the rooms moved around. She couldn't explain why they did this, but any time she tried to illustrate a map, it was useless. A few rooms stayed put—The library, the kitchen, the Livingroom, and the bedrooms—and she guessed that had to be because they were the most frequented.
But she didn't really know. It didn't help that no one else cared to help her understand, either. How such a large group of people could be so complicit in their own unexplained presence in this house was a mystery to her. She shook her head. If it was her burden to bear, then she would deal with it. She couldn't give up.
In one room, she found simply a roundtable with a plant. Walking toward it, she noticed that the room seemed even smaller the longer she was in it. It was hardly more than a closet! She left the room. It's just a plant. The next room contained shelves full of board games. "I'll have to suggest we play these sometime," she noted to herself while rifling through the shelves. She could take a more thorough search through here later, but for now, it looked to be devoid of anything suspicious. Quite a few rooms were just sitting rooms with various degrees of decorating.
And then she came across the next room. It was full of instruments. For a moment, all her suspicion flew from her mind and her eyes sparkled. "A piano..." She slowly sat in the seat and tried a few keys. As she may have guessed, it was in perfect tune. She automatically assumed the correct posture and began to play. It had been too long since she had touched a piano; it had been too long since she had felt so carefree.
"You enjoy the piano?" Quince leaned into the doorway. At his voice, Jenna stopped playing in a jolt. "It's always him."
"Yes, I hope my playing didn't bother anyone," and just like that, Jenna was back in the unfamiliar reality of the House.
"Of course not," Quince smiled and took a few steps in. "It sounded beautiful. Are you exploring the house all on your own again, Jenna?"
She took in a sharp breath, "I was just curious about the other rooms, is all."
He hummed, "Yes, that's understandable. Just don't get yourself into any trouble."
"Trouble...?" Jenna asked. "I'm already dead. What sort of trouble are you talking about?" Quince didn't reply, however, he simply smiled and walked out the door. Jenna felt too disoriented to play the piano now. "Was that a threat?"
xxxxx
I should have drunk more water... you thought to yourself when you woke up. It wasn't a terrible hangover, but your body felt heavy and a headache lingered. At least you're dead. No work, no responsibilities. You can do all the things people like to do during hangovers... like just sleep and eat.
You lazily made your way to the kitchen and dimmed the lights in there a little bit. I wonder how Don is, you thought while pouring yourself a glass of water. Cereal sounded like a good idea, so you poured yourself a large bowl and dumped some milk in absentmindedly. A few of the corn puffs fell over the side of the bowl and rolled across the counter.
"You're making a mess," Ryo spoke from behind you. You tensed at his voice—you hadn't realized he was in here, too.
"I'll clean it up," you sighed, frustrated.
"What happened last night?"
"What do you mean?" you hoped you hadn't woken up the whole house with your foolishness.
"Jason's been in too good of a mood. I am going to assume it has something to do with you," he explained while pouring himself a much smaller bowl of cereal.
You blushed as you remembered Jason's involvement in last night. He's... really comforting. You were embarrassed about it, though. Your memories were somewhat fuzzy, but you had definitely cried all over him. You sighed, "And why would you assume that?" Yeah, Jason had been really sweet to you, but why would that put him in a good mood?
"because he told me," Ryo had wanted to retort. Jason was endlessly smug when he was around Ryo today. He refused to say any details but claimed that you had opened up to him. Ryo scoffed, it wasn't like he cared. He didn't want you to like him. Still, there was an odd sting to know that you preferred Jason to him. He shouldn't be surprised, but he was anyway. "Can you just tell me? I can't deal with this stupid suspense."
"I don't see why you care," you munched angrily. "I also don't think anything I did would put Jason in a good mood. Don and I just..." you were even more embarrassed now.
"Just...?"
"Nothing ok! Geez, it's none of your business."
"Well that doesn't sound suggestive at all," Ryo retorted.
"Get your mind out of the gutter! We just got a little drunk, and Jason and Jenna had to rescue us. It's dumb, ok?"
To your surprise, Ryo laughed at this, "It is dumb, but maybe don't drink alone and it won't be so embarrassing."
"I didn't want to, but Don insisted on leaving everyone else out," you pouted. After what Jenna said, though, I guess I should be glad I didn't get everyone intoxicated.
"Did you say anything stupid?"
"Probably? Do you just like to hear about me fucking up?" You were getting increasingly annoyed.
"Yeah, it's funny. Isn't this what friends do?"
You stood from the table, "I don't think we're that close yet." You were about to march away angrily but Ryo stopped you with a hold on your wrist. This is familiar. He's grabby. "What?"
"Hang out with me," He spoke in demands rather than requests, but something about his tone made your face soften. This is a good chance to reach a better understanding with each other. It would suck if every interaction you had with him made you angry.
"What do you want to do?"
"We'll just talk. Have you ever read Camus?" He asked. You sat back down and pulled your wrist away from his grasp.
"I don't think so. I don't recognize the name," you admitted.
"He's a philosopher, or whatever," He spoke dismissively but kept his eyes on you.
"How many of you guys are into philosophy?" your brows furrowed.
"Camus has an interesting take on hope," Ryo ignored your question. "Most people believe that an abandonment of hope is the cause of all despair, but Camus believes the opposite is true."
"But hope is the opposite of despair," you argued.
"No, it's the cause of it," Ryo shook his head. "Hope doesn't change a situation or an outcome. Indulging in hope is just opening the door for disappointment at failure. Hope is just delusional."
"That doesn't make any sense. How can you say hope is a bad thing?"
"Think about it. Any time you spend hoping for something to change or get better is time wasted. When you set high expectations, the chance of you feeling heartbreak only gets higher. It's better to find peace in your situation."
"That sounds really depressing," you frowned.
"It's not. I think when you stop deluding yourself and accept the reality of a situation, you start living better," He shrugged.
"That's still harsh. How can anyone live without hope?"
"I think it's human nature to have instances where you hope for things, but It's definitely better to let go of a lot of it and just live your life."
"But we're dead," you grinned a little.
"You know what I mean, dumbass."
"Hey! I am not a dumbass," you frowned. "I guess I see what you mean, but it just seems so sad."
"People abandoning reality so that they can hope endlessly is sadder to me," Ryo argued.
"Well, I hope you'll be nicer to me, anyway."
He smiled lazily at you, "And I told you to abandon hope. Maybe you should count your blessings, (y/n)."
"You're ridiculous," you huffed. Maybe this wasn't going as well as you thought. You were too busy thinking of a good way to argue in defense of hope to notice that Ryo was scrutinizing you. "She's not...ugly," he admitted to himself. He knew he thought the way you reacted to things was cute. Power was fun. But the draw he felt toward you, that was inexplicable. He figured that since he was already dead, there was no good reason not to mess with you. It only made sense. You were attractive, you were too good to be mean, and you were easy to fluster. All signs pointed to yes in his eyes. You could often be annoying to him in how hard you pushed the whole "friendship" thing, but he could also use that to his advantage. He was right now, even. You were too likely to accept anything that would make you closer friends with anyone in the group.
Something was a little different, though. You seemed just a bit more guarded than usual. He knew he could take some of the blame for that, but he was suspicious. If he wasn't careful, Jason would snatch you up and hide you away. He couldn't tell how everyone else was treating you, but Ryo wasn't stupid enough to think he was the only one interested. He frowned. "Guess I better get my fill of play time while I can..."
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And early update... just because? lol
I know I made Camus sound sad, but I actually agree with a lot of his writing. I would recommend reading Camus's essay The Myth of Sisyphus, (or maybe just a summary).
Side note--I'm writing another story along with this one. Check it out! The first chapter of Royally Ours is up. More to come!