Even after arriving near the building in Tribeca, Joshua remained sitting in the driver’s seat for a while. His fists tapping on the steering wheel created tension. The rock music blaring at high volume inside the car also contributed to intensifying the anxious atmosphere.
Arctic Monkeys’ “Brianstorm.”
Following the insanely fast rhythm of the drums, Joshua’s fists hitting the steering wheel also gradually increased in speed.
Yeah, a day or so is understandable.
He’s not just some average guy, and he’s that pretty. Just because he received a business card doesn’t mean he’d want to contact me right away the next day. Yeah, that’s right. He can do that.
But still… three days isn’t too much, right?
He must have been hit on countless times by countless guys. Maybe among them were guys with names as powerful as Joshua’s own. That wouldn’t be surprising given his appearance. To the point where it didn’t make sense that he was serving at a place like that. So even if he’s picky, he understands.
But Joshua’s pride had also been wounded to the limit while waiting those three days. Even if contact came, he wanted to ignore it from his end.
Muttering curses, he finally slammed down hard on the steering wheel with a bang. Then he turned the wheel toward the underground parking lot.
While riding the elevator up to the bar, he thought about what to say when he faced that face.
Yeah, let’s not get too angry.
Getting angry would only prove how anxious I was, wouldn’t it?
Act as if I expected this kind of reaction.
I absolutely won’t let it slide today. I’ll load up that fancy bicycle whole and get him in the car no matter what.
However, such plans and resolutions were unnecessary. It was just a waste of time and energy.
When he entered the bar and was being shown to his seat, he quickly scanned the bar, but the person Joshua was looking for was nowhere to be seen. The one who came to take his order was also a different employee.
“Mr. Joshua, will you be ordering? Or shall I make a recommendation?”
Even an employee he’d never seen before recognized Joshua and addressed him familiarly, calling him by a name he’d never told them. Unlike ‘Lian.’
“I don’t see Lian.”
“…Pardon?”
At Joshua’s answer that was completely unrelated to the question, the employee asked back in confusion.
“Lian. Platinum blonde.”
“Ah… Lian quit.”
Joshua’s face immediately crumpled. He pulled his upper body away from the backrest he’d been leaning against and raised his voice.
“Quit? When?”
“It’s been a few days. I think he stopped coming from the day after you visited, Mr. Joshua…”
Joshua’s lips twisted grotesquely at the unexpected news that had been waiting for him.
What the employee who went to check the situation and returned told him wasn’t much different. ‘Lian’s’ last day at work was the day Joshua had visited. He even spoke individually with the person called the manager, but they said they’d only received contact saying ‘he has other work to do and can’t come in.’ When Joshua pressed aggressively about what that other work was, as if he might grab someone by the collar, the manager shook his head.
Even though it was a members-only bar, while the customers coming and going were thoroughly managed, it was rare for employees to work for long. Young men and women with decent looks got hired at the bar thanks to the high hourly wage, but they inevitably grew tired of serving others.
“Lian was an employee we hoped would work for a long time, so we’re also disappointed.”
The manager clicked his tongue as if truly regretful and carefully added, so as not to displease Joshua Lockhart.
“But it’s our rule not to ask about employees’ personal information, especially their whereabouts after they quit… I don’t have anything I can tell you about ‘Lian’ either.”
He spoke with a constantly apologetic face, but even if he had known Lian’s whereabouts, he wouldn’t have told him. As it wasn’t a seedy establishment, physical contact with customers was forbidden, as was giving out real names or contact information, at least on the surface.
Realizing there was nothing more to extract from him, Joshua turned away. There was no longer any reason to stay there.
‘Lian’ hadn’t delayed contact just to play hard to get. He had no intention of making contact in the first place, or his intention to contact had disappeared.
He was such a rare premium item, so I patiently dealt with him… and he screws me over like this?
Hot anger boiled up to the point of mistaking it for passionate feelings of love.
While riding the elevator down, Joshua attempted to connect a call somewhere.
While the signal went through, he kept gnashing his lower lip and thumping the elevator handrail with his fist. The movement revealed emotions bordering on obsession beyond nervousness.
[Mr. Joshua, it’s been a while.]
Even though it didn’t take very long for the man’s voice to come through the phone, Joshua felt like he might lose his rationality at any moment.
[I was bored since you hadn’t contacted me.]
“You talk well. As if I’m your only client.”
Haha. After an artificial laugh, the man said.
[It’s because jobs aren’t as fun as Mr. Joshua’s requests.]
“That’s good to hear.”
[Do you have new work?]
He could almost see the man’s unpleasant face grinning with gleaming yellow eyes.
The elevator door opened. Joshua quickened his pace toward his car.
“Find someone for me.”
[That’s my specialty. Is it someone who needs to be dealt with?]
At the question of whether it was someone who needed to be dealt with, Joshua narrowed his brow and thought briefly. However, it didn’t take very long to answer.
“Someone who needs to be properly taken care of.”
As Joshua climbed into the low-profile driver’s seat after finishing the call, an inscrutable twisted smile hung on his lips.
■
Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5.
It was Lorenz’s personal opinion that this piece wasn’t properly valued because of its excessive fame. People don’t really contemplate things they’re already familiar with. They’re already so sick of knowing it well that they mistakenly think there’s no more room to savor it.
Just as there was no one who didn’t know this piece’s famous opening motif, Lorenz was convinced that there were almost no people who properly understood this piece’s value either.
Beethoven didn’t attach the sentimental title “Fate” to this piece. The reason it became widely known by a title the composer never gave it was because of an anecdote described in Beethoven’s biography by his student and secretary, Anton Schindler. According to Schindler, Beethoven pointed to the first four-note motif of this symphony’s first movement and said this:
“Thus fate knocks at the door.”
However, there’s no way to confirm whether Beethoven actually left such words.
To Lorenz, this piece was simply Symphony No. 5 in C minor. Just as Beethoven had titled it.
The structural precision of one motif becoming a theme, transforming into various forms, reappearing, and penetrating through the whole. What he liked most of all was that it led the piece through logical composition rather than the flow of emotions.
Whenever he listened to this piece, he could always focus on rules and design.
That sometimes subdued his headaches and provided rest amidst a peace where everything was logically organized and proceeded according to rules.
Lorenz possessed a listening room in his penthouse that he’d put great effort into. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all in a room-within-a-room structure separated from the building’s main body, blocking out external noise almost perfectly.
It was a space reminiscent of a laboratory rather than a listening room, with large speakers filling one wall, heavy amplifiers, and playback equipment neatly arranged. Even the most optimal position for listening to music was marked on the floor. This was to ensure that after cleaning, the chair could be placed in that exact spot without error.
That place was Lorenz’s sanctuary, a small heaven.
However, there was no proper listening room here at the Lockhart mansion. He couldn’t freely modify the mansion until it became completely his own. That’s why he had to be satisfied with thick sound-absorbing panels, soundproof curtains, and Danish-made large floor-standing speakers.
Was that the reason?
Lorenz couldn’t quite concentrate on the music.
His gaze tracking the full score spread out on the stand had already missed notes and strayed several times. A specific person’s face kept coming to mind.
8:43. East 46th Street.
A restaurant with an emerald green awning.
A broken helmet.
The sunlight pouring out into the world the moment that helmet was removed.
