Theatre Night 2.

"Tommy! Tommy! Did you see where Liv went off to?"

The performance was over and hoards of the audience were moving collectively towards the exit of the theatre. There was stress and sweat in the air, along with the sharp smell of the kind of perfume elderly ladies often wore. Long lines of people queued restlessly for the wardrobe and the restrooms. Thomas tried to locate the person who had called on him and found that it was Wilma. Her blonde corkscrew curls bounced eagerly around her face as she struggled to get closer to him.

"No. Sorry. She can get a ride home with you, right?"

Wilma nodded but her brows were furrowed.

"Yeah, that's the plan. Are you sure you didn't see her?"

Thomas felt tired all of a sudden. Why did she think he would know where she was? He barely saw Liv at all these days, so why did it feel like he was being held responsible for her whereabouts? Besides, Böret, his grandma, whom he was pushing in a wheelchair, seemed to be getting rather hot and impatient.

"Yes I'm sure. Bet she's around here somewhere though."

Wilma nodded and Böret let out an annoyed grunt. The transportation service car was probably waiting for them in the lot.

"You know what, I really have to go but I'll see you, alright. Tell Liv I said hello... or goodbye, I guess" Wilma nodded again and gave him and Böret a sympathizing glance.

"I understand. See you 'round, Tommy."

It was pitch black on the theater-bounds now and the gravel crunched beneath the wheelchair wheels. A lot of the guests dwelled on the steps to say goodbye or discuss the play. Two people were wandering off into the small forest located nearby, and caught his eye, just as they disappeared into the woods on the path lit up by lampposts. Thomas breath hitched when he heard a familiar laugh echo from that direction. It was Liv's. Liv was walking into the forest with someone.

A thousand thoughts began to spin inside his head all at once and it was difficult to sort out the furiously jealous ones from the ones of genuine concern. Worry or jealousy or whatever it was, he pushed it down, away. For sure, Arvid would have wanted to follow Liv and her companion into the forest, mess with the boy in question, threaten him, embarrass Liv - but Arvid was not there. If Liv had found some guy her age she fancied in the audience, Thomas could not justify intervening. How pathetic of him to follow them really, she would be uncomfortable and annoyed if she saw him, he was certain of it. A hand tapping him gently on the shoulder interrupted his thoughts.

"Hello Thomas."

Wilma's mother. Her name was Helen or Marianne or something alike. The embodiment of shallow based empathy, really. It made him uncomfortable. Böret's presence only amplified her charitable expression.

"Hello."

Böret only glared back but Wilma's mom seemed unfazed.

"How are you holding up these days?"

Thomas swallowed with a bit of difficulty.

"Really good, really good."

"Repeating things don't make people believe they are true." - Something Arvid had told him years back in middle school and he fought back an annoyed smile as he remembered. Wilma's mother seemed to have read his mind.

"Missing Arvid I bet. I know Liv does."

Was Liv telling her friend's mom about that? He doubted it.

"Yes. It's... new, definitely."

"You guys have always been joint at the hip, haven't you?", she smiled.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

It just went on, the questions posed in the form of statements. He knew she wanted to ask about his dad, they always did. He could tell that was what she was thinking about right now because her eyes suddenly glinted more regretfully than ever.

"Still live with your father?"

He slowly drew in breath, held it while working out how to answer, what answer would make her response to it the least painful to hear. If he said no, she would pity him not having a parent around and if he said yes, she would pity him having well... that parent around.

He never had to answer the question however, because someone ran into him, full force. Reflexively he caught her under the shoulders when she caved. Liv was hyperventilating and shaking, clawing at his arms while attempting to tell him something but failing to form words. "Jesus, Liv", Wilma's mother gasped, "What on earth..."

Searching for an explanation to the state of her he realized that angry red marks were prominently showing on her throat, arms and collarbones. The dress was undone in the back. No, not undone, ripped open in fact, and she had a childlike look of panic in her eyes.