Chapter Four

Rory had been working at the studio for a week when a surprise guest came. He had just completed planning a portion for an upcoming gala when he noticed Daniel in the distance. He gave a wide grin. "Danny, what are you doing here?" he inquired excitedly, approaching his friend. Daniel turned to return the gesture. "I missed you," he responded. They both hugged. "So, are you nervous?" Daniel inquired. 

"Yeah, I'm terrified," Rory acknowledged. "My art will be seen," he explained. 

"You'll do great," Daniel said, grinning. "Plus, I'll be there to support you," he continued. "Really?" Rory gasped, his hazel eyes widening in disbelief. 

"I wanted to be here for your big day," Daniel said.

Two days later, Rory stood in front of his bathroom mirror, staring nervously at himself. A navy blue button-up shirt clung to his chest. Cream-colored slacks hung loosely about his thighs and hips. "Come in," Rory whispered shakily as a faint knock on his bedroom door was heard. The door creaked open, and Daniel came dressed in a neat white dress shirt and black slacks. His blond hair was combed perfectly. Small blue studded earrings adorned his earlobes. 

"Are you ready for your debut?" The blonde inquired. 

"No," Rory said in a voice above a whisper. "I'm scared." 

"You'll knock 'em' dead," he reassured Rory, wrapping one arm around his shoulders.

For Rory, the short trip down to the art studio felt like a lifetime. His chest clenched with every step he took. Zeke grinned and added, "Rory, you look nervous," as the two young men entered. "Is it that obvious?" Rory asked. Zeke chuckled. Rory made it through the evening without losing his mind, thanks to Daniel's calming presence. An hour later, Daniel and Rory were sitting on the couch, pizza and Coke in front of them. The television was on, but they weren't paying attention to it. Rory's thoughts were elsewhere. "What's going on in that head of yours?" Daniel teased. Rory hesitated to speak. "I am not sure." "It could just be my mind playing tricks with my head," he replied.

Daniel's chocolate eyes initially expressed concern but gradually softened. "I'll stay a little longer if you need me," he said. Rory slowly shook his head. "I can't just ask you to drop things for me," he said in a tone barely above a whisper. Daniel laid a hand on Rory's and said, "We're friends; we watch out for each other," in a stern yet calming tone. Rory looked aside as his hazel eyes welled up with salty tears. "Someone, not a patron, was watching me today at the gala," Rory murmured. Daniel's eyes narrowed with concern. "Are you sure?" he asked. Rory nodded. "There was a shadow of a man in the back of the room," he explained.

Rory had been nervous and agitated since the art gala. The slightest sound, such as a vehicle's horn or a knock on the door, terrified him. Nightmares also tormented him, making it difficult to focus on even the simplest duties during the day. Zeke noticed, as did Daniel. 

"Rory, I'm worried about you," Daniel confessed one day as they sat silently on the couch. 

"I'm fine," Rory responded, more harshly than he intended. When Rory saw Daniel's shocked expression, he realized his error. "I didn't mean to snap at you," he explained. 

"It's okay," Daniel told him. "We all have bad days," he explained. There was still tension, but it was not as severe as previously.

If Rory had known his life was about to be turned upside down, he would have yelled, "Fuck this," and left town. The midday rain reflected Rory's melancholy state. He lay in bed, supported up with two comfortable pillows. A small box of Kleenex stood on the nightstand beside his bed. His cheeks had no color, and his nose was crimson from blowing it too hard. As Rory attempted to rest, Daniel went to fetch cold medicine and other stuff. Rory's hazel eyes widened when a strong knock was heard. He carefully rose from the bed, put on a soft robe, and walked down the hallway. When he opened the door, his breath caught. A stranger from before stood in front of him.

Rory stepped back as the man approached. "Who are you, and what do you want?" Rory asked, his voice shaking as he spoke. 

"I'm Detective Sanchos, and I'm here because your father wants you back," the brunette told him. Rory shook his head vigorously. "Tell him I'm not coming back," he said. 

"I was told to bring you home," the man explained, reaching out to Rory. Rory's breathing quickened, and his back slapped the wall as he backed away. They both looked at the door as it opened. "What the hell is going on?" Daniel asked as he stepped inside. Rory spoke in a shaky tone, "This person says that my dad wants me to come home," pointing to the stranger.

Rory sank onto the cold, tiled floor and murmured, "Danny," in a faint voice. When Daniel noticed the color draining from Rory's cheeks, his demeanor became more concerned. "I don't know who you are, but you must leave," he said, turning to face the man. When the detective realized the situation had gotten dangerous, he nodded and backed away. When it was just the two of them, Daniel crouched in front of Rory. Rory's breathing was labored, and tears rolled down his pale face. "Look at me, Rory," Daniel stated in a calm, soothing tone. 

"It hurts," Rory whined, grabbing the front of his grey hoodie. Daniel knew he had to do something because his friend was in distress.

Daniel went into panic mode and dialed 911. Five minutes later, paramedics arrived and asked inquiries. Daniel responded as quietly as possible while Rory was inspected and lay on a stretcher. Daniel said, "I want to ride with him" as they loaded Rory into the ambulance. The blonde female paramedic nodded and allowed him inside. 

"You'll be fine," Daniel promised Rory as they sped out of the apartment. Ten minutes later, Daniel sat next to Rory's hospital bed while medics attended to his friend's health. His mind raced with ideas regarding the situation. "Who was the guy from earlier, and why was he at Rory's house?" he questioned himself. Something was awry, and he needed to figure out what was happening.