Chapter Text
Pierce stops at the table, picks up the mask and looks it over. "Where was it?" When his eyes land on Branzy again, the white-haired man remembers. He's the guy from the almost door incident. Hopefully he doesn't recognise him; that would make for an awkward conversation. He clears his throat, preparing for a normal conversation. "I found it near the fountain." After that, there was nothing more — just smile. But the empty eyes didn't leave him, and Branzy really didn't want to be there. With every passing second, the desire to run out of the room increased. Ferre seemed to feel a little sorry for him.
"Are you okay? Or is there something on his face?" After a pause that was too long in one specific Persson's opinion, he asked, "Have we ever met?" No, no, not good. Get out of here. "Not that I know of, no." With that, the photographer moved towards the exit. "Since the mask is back where it should be, I'd better leave. You know, projects and things like that." He finally arrived at the door. "It was nice to meet you two," he said, walking down the corridor with the same speed he had had in the morning. Almost there — the lift was right there. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ALMOST RAN INTO THE DOOR, RIGHT?!" Faaacccckkkkk Branzy froze. Did he have to shout that through the whole hallway? After a slow and painful turn, he saw Pierce standing in the doorway. He might wears a mask that covered his mouth, but the grin was still visible, and Branzy hated it. So he broke eye contact. "No..." That was too puny.
This stupid lift just won't work. The clicking of the button accelerated when he heard laughter and someone saying goodbye in the background. The stairs! But before he could open the door properly, it closed again. How fast is that guy? He could see an arm out of the corner of his eye, but he really didn't want to look to the side. Even though they were the same size, he felt very small right now. "Branzy, right? You don't have to run away; it happens to everyone." He moved away from the door and took a step back to give the poor man some space. The elevator door opened, great thing. Both stepped in and it was unpleasant and very uncomfortable. Pierce sighed. "Thank you for finding it," Topic change that he can work with. "No problem," he replied. "May I ask why it was there at all?" He was still not looking in the other person's direction, but his shoulders relaxed a bit.
"I need inspiration. I make sculptures, and my next one is inspired by a murderer. I asked a friend to wear the mask and pose there. A few photos later, we were done. Then we saw a deer, got distracted, and he lost the mask." There was another sigh, accompanied by a quiet laugh from his neighbour. "What about you? Are you studying here too, or...?"
Branzy was now completely relaxed and stepped out of the lift after Pierce. "Yes, I'm studying photography; that's why I was there." The lift was right at the entrance/exit, but before he could finish the conversation, the way one normally does, Pierce asked, "Would you like to see the statue?" Well, he still has to sort the remaining photos. He might still have time, but the photos have to be sent in less than a week. Maybe he still has time. He still has time. With a smile, with what he lies to himself: "Gladly." The rooms are similar to the graffiti area: large, with individual spaces divided by walls, and a long corridor to reach everyone.
In front of them stood a half-finished statue. It wasn't made of clay or mud no that was stone, carved by hand. "Wow," He didn't know what else to say. He could see how much sweat and time had been invested. A slight laugh reminded him that he was not alone. "Maybe you should wait to stare until I'm done," ignoring the grin he could hear. He circled the statue, asking, "Why that topic?" He stopped on the other side of the statue, which now stood between them. Pierce took a few steps nearer. "My professor has a questionable fascination with this topic and set it as a task. But he's always been a bit weird. Don't tell him I said that." His eyes moved away from the statue and landed on Branzy, who tried to suppress a laugh. Raising his hand to his mouth to show that he wouldn't say anything. After a moment of eye contact, Pierce broke free and went to a table on the side where he picked up the chisel and hammer. "Do you want to try?"
After a second to realise what he was asking, the photographer's eyes widened. "WHAT?! No, no, I can't do tha—" Pierce interrupted him with a laugh and took a small roller cabinet that hairdressers have from the side, putting the tools on it. "Not that one, but this one," lifting a coarse sandstone block the size of an armrest and placing it on a small table. Branzy walked slowly towards him until he stopped next to Pierce. "There you have chisels in different sizes, so you can take the rough first steps. Of course, you also need a—"
"Wait, wait, Pierce, that's a bit fast," laughing nervously. "I mean, it sounds interesting, and I've never done anything like this before, but I'm not sure if I have the time for it." After a moment's silence, which he didn't like, he stole a quick glance at the man next to him. Who looked straight ahead, but then sighed, making Branzy look at the stone again. "No, you're right. You looked so fascinated, and I was a little too excited to show it to you. You have your own things to do, sorry."
A soft smile appeared on Branzy's lips as he placed one hand on the other's shoulder. "How about next week? I'll have more time then." With a sideways glance, he accepted the suggestion. "Okay," he said and with a teasing tone, "and for an exact day or time, may I have your number, or would that be too fast to?" He took his hand back and tried to hide his laughter. "Well, we only met today," he said, turning to look at Pierce again. He let the silence stretch for a few seconds. Then he smiled and turned his head again to look at Pierce. "On the other hand, I suggested meeting you again. I guess there's nothing you can do about it." He shrugged, took his phone out of his pocket, and they exchanged numbers.
After that, however, he had to leave again. By the time he had finished — and even liked some of the photos — it was too late to ask for a second opinion. He would ask tomorrow, but now it's going home. Once there, he sat down on the couch with the other two.
"OK, what's going on?" Skip couldn't take it anymore. "Since you've been sitting here, you've been staring at your phone." Branzy sank a little further into the couch. "Long story, but I have a new number and I don't know what to write or if I should write." He knew that they were staring at him and he stil looked in their direction anyway, immediately regretting it. In fact, they both stared at him. Then the TV was turned down, and he felt the need to leave immediately. "What kind of ´new number´ is it?" The glasses wearer was always a bit too curious; it didn't help that he had such a stupid grin on his face right now. But he wasn't much better. After sinking a little deeper into the couch, he prepared himself with a sigh. "Possible friendship, I think.
He suggested to show me how to make statues out of stone, but we haven't figured out anything yet" "No ides, how do you usually start? Hi or hello I'm blah blah blah", Skip looks over to his right "Rek? Do you have an idea?" But Rek just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head: "Why are you thinking so much about it?" Good question, why? But before he could think about it any more, his cell phone vibrated. A quick glance at it and he sat up straight at a speed that frightened the other two. "Oh Oh-okayy, he wrote. What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?!" Skip hung on his shoulder, "What? Open the chat!" he doesn't like to admit it, but the youngest of the three became a bit curious now and got up to see something behind them.