Klaus slides from Ember's back when they reach the river, choosing to settle into the grass on the bank while she drinks her fill. It's peaceful out here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and he briefly toys with the idea of staying until nightfall. Of stretching out on his back with the stars overhead and Ember at his side to keep the night's chill at bay. His agent would be furious, but there's some enjoyment to be had in that too.
A soft hooting sound pulls Klaus away from his thoughts. A rowlet sits perched atop a nearby log -
staring.
"You come out here to get away from all the noise too, little guy?" It's not like he expects a response, but it's a nice thought, that they they share a distaste for the pointless stream of chatter that permeates Fortree. The rowlet hoots again.
"That's fair, you probably live out here, huh? No city for you." No city to navigate. No shackle of a role to perform. Nothing but the river, and the trees, and the wind, and the open sky. What he wouldn't give for just a day like that.
Klaus could swear that the rowlet understands. That, somehow, it
knows what his day has been like. The way it continues to stare, as if it can see right through to the core of him. It hoots again before hopping further along the log, fanning it's feathers in the breeze.
Closer.
"You're lucky, you know. You get to stay out here and be exactly who and what you are." It's not that Klaus would change things. Sure, there'd be far fewer publicity stunts and meet and greets if he were making his own schedule, but there's something to be said for the rush of a performance gone well - the roar of the crowd, the knowledge that he gave it his all and his all was enough, that it
mattered, and the fancy hi-rise apartment didn't suck either.
If it could be about nothing but the music, Klaus might even be able to enjoy the rest of it. But, no, fans wanted to know about his exercise regiment, and touch his hair, and tell him about their favorite flavor of ice cream when literally no one asked. They wanted to project themselves into his world, as if they might stand by his side as partners, equals, when they didn't even
know him. When all they saw was the pretty face and the honeyed words. Not the grueling hours of practice and choreography. Not the steps it took to climb onto his lofty pedestal, or the pieces of himself that he to give up along the way. No, not give up -
sell. He was a commodity now. An image. A fantasy for others to enjoy.
The rowlet shifts from one foot to the others, still watching. Klaus smiles at it, but it's a bitter thing tainted with envy, and it falls away when he catches sight of his watch.
'Shit. Duty calls.'"Well, little guy, I've got a schedule to keep. Watch the stars for me, will you? Someone should get to enjoy them tonight." And that's that, or it should be. Klaus swings himself up onto Ember's back and they head back into the city where some journalist or other is waiting at a bar for an interview, and Klaus fakes a smile and says all the right things until he's allowed to head back to his hotel room.
With a sigh, he steps out onto the balcony and tries to make out the stars. Small pinpricks of light lost against the city's glow, near impossible to see. A soft hoot cuts draws him from his disappointment.
"You again? What are you doing all the way out here?" Silence.
Klaus shakes his head and slides the door a little wider in invitation.
"Guess you might as well come inside. It's supposed to get cold tonight." It occurs to Klaus as he heads back inside that the rowlet lives outside year round and does perfectly well on its own, that it doesn't need his interference, but it's already here and, if he's being perfectly honest with himself, he's kind of hoping that it'll decide to stay.
Briony looks up from her place of pride, curled up in the center of one of the many hotel pillows as Klaus steps back into the room, bristling slightly as the rowlet hops in behind him. The flareon has never played well with others.
"Don't even think about it, Briony, he's a guest."
