Chapter 3.5

When the two fell silent, the theater grew quiet in an instant. Suddenly, Natalie looked around.  

“But now… shouldn’t we leave?”  

Natalie’s face, now devoid of laughter, showed a trace of worry. She looked like a young lady from a story who had to return before the magic broke at midnight.  

Edgar, not knowing the source of Natalie’s worry, asked, 

“Do you have to return home early?”  

“No, it’s not that….”  

Natalie looked at Edgar quietly. With her cheeks slightly flushed, the young lady holding onto Edgar’s arm seemed as if she didn’t want to go home at all.  

Though Edgar knew Natalie wouldn’t cry and beg to stay with him, his imagination ran wild.  

“Then, do you not want to go home?”  

Edgar asked again with a teasing smile.  

Realizing she might be misunderstood, Natalie quickly let go of Edgar’s arm and wrapped her arms around her knees.  

“No.”  

Natalie answered firmly.  

Edgar, watching Natalie curl up as if to guard herself, let out a hollow laugh. It was the first time someone had answered such a question so resolutely.  

Just as Edgar was about to interpret her firmness as a rejection of him, Natalie added, 

“It’s not that I dislike being with you, Mr. Wharton. But the theater will close soon.”  

“Are you worried they’ll kick us out before they close?”  

“I’d rather leave before they do.”  

Natalie’s earnest reply was akin to worrying about being kicked out of one’s own home.  

“Don’t worry. No one can kick my friend out.”  

“Thank you for saying so. That’s reassuring.”  

“I’m not joking. Truly, who would kick out the owner?”  

Edgar spoke leisurely, and Natalie frowned as though she found his words nonsensical.  

“The owner?”  

“The owner of the theater.”  

Natalie stared at Edgar intently. After a moment of silence, realization dawned on her, and her eyes widened.  

“…Are you the owner of this theater, Mr. Wharton?”  

Edgar gave her a dignified smile befitting the owner of the Flavium Theater. Watching Natalie’s surprised expression, Edgar found it more surprising that someone in this city didn’t know this fact.  

As doubt turned to certainty, Natalie’s emerald-green eyes sparkled with curiosity.  

“My friend is the owner of the theater—that’s amazing! So, do you design the stage too?”  

“That’s the role of my other friends.”  

“Then do you write the scripts?”  

“My other friends handle that as well.”  

“Then….”  

The more Edgar answered, the more Natalie’s bright eyes dimmed, leaving only curiosity.  

“…Do you not do anything, Mr. Wharton?”  

After a moment of hesitation, Natalie asked the question seriously and cautiously. Having suddenly become someone who did nothing but act as the owner, Edgar explained his role.  

“My job is to make more friends. I find friends who can pay for the stage. If I write their names on a piece of paper, we can hang a bigger moon on the stage, and the protagonist’s dress can sparkle even more.”  

Listening intently, Natalie wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he did. But she understood that the beauty of the stage she had seen was thanks to Edgar’s contributions.  

“Wow, that’s amazing. There’s nothing harder than making friends.”  

“Thank you for the compliment.”  

“You’re welcome.”  

Natalie added the response as if she were a student who had just learned the proper reply to “Thank you.” Edgar couldn’t help but laugh at her earnestness.  

Natalie, fiddling with the handkerchief in her hand, handed it back to Edgar.  

“But now, shouldn’t you go? As the owner of the theater, you must be busy.”  

Caught off guard, Edgar accepted the handkerchief. Natalie stood up without hesitation. Edgar remained seated, simply looking up at her.  

The handkerchief, returned to him, remained in his hand. He couldn’t put it back in his pocket. His fingers brushed over the crumpled corner, left that way by Natalie’s touch. Natalie, brushing off her dress, seemed ready to leave the box seat at any moment.  

“Natalie.”  

Instead of grabbing her arm, Edgar called her name.  

Natalie turned her head to look at Edgar. But she only looked and didn’t sit back down beside him. She seemed to harbor no lingering feelings for a man she didn’t like.  

Edgar’s blue eyes clung to Natalie, who stood motionless. Words he couldn’t say swirled in his mind. He didn’t know how to hold onto someone who had no interest in him.  

After a moment of silence, Edgar thought of a card to play to keep the curious young lady from leaving. A card of curiosity, not affection, for an unfamiliar world.  

“Would you like to meet my friends?”  

***

The theater, deserted after the audience had left, was as silent and dark as a night in deep slumber. At the end of the hallway, in front of a tall door, Mr. Wharton turned to look back.  

“Are you ready?”  

His words filled Natalie with a mix of slight nervousness and immense anticipation. The door behind Mr. Wharton appeared like the entrance to a cave leading to a wonderland. Natalie nodded.  

The handsome blond gentleman, smiling like a charming rabbit, opened the door. At that moment, the commotion hidden behind the door burst out.  

It was as if all the lights in the world had been gathered there, dazzling in every direction. It felt like all the starlight brightening the deep night had converged in one place.  

Looking up along the high ceilings, people were busily moving about. Dancers in tutus descended the stairs, appearing like fairies of the night. The moon and clouds hanging from the ceiling slowly descended to the ground.  

The backstage seemed like the other side of the world. Secrets of how the world on stage operated were unfolding right before her eyes.  

Mr. Wharton walked skillfully, avoiding the bustling people. He looked entirely at home in this space, as if the heart of the night was familiar to a fairy of the night.  

Following the blond gentleman, Natalie, unfamiliar with dodging moons and clouds, almost bumped into one. She hurriedly stepped back to stop herself.  

The distance between her and Mr. Wharton grew wider. Natalie reached out her hand in a panic.  

Noticing Natalie’s absence beside him, Mr. Wharton looked back. Seeing Natalie standing still, he returned and held out his hand to her.  

Natalie looked startled as his hand suddenly grasped hers.  

“I didn’t mean for you to hold my hand.”  

“I know.”  

But Mr. Wharton only tightened his grip. Natalie reiterated her point clearly.  

“There’s no need for you to hold my hand.”  

In response, Mr. Wharton pulled Natalie closer to him. Natalie found herself standing right next to him.  

“Don’t worry. I won’t let go.”  

It felt to Natalie as if they were speaking entirely opposite languages. She wondered if, in the strange land where Mr. Wharton lived, they spoke a peculiar language different from reality.  

While Natalie let her imagination run wild, Mr. Wharton led her up the stairs. To her surprise, the characters from the stage were all gathered there.  

Enemies who had caused each other’s deaths were laughing and chatting like best friends. The priest who had officiated the protagonists’ love had lost his Roman collar and was holding a bottle of alcohol instead.  

Even Romeo, who had moved Natalie to tears with his fateful love, was kissing a young lady who was not Juliet.  

“My goodness….”  

Natalie was dumbstruck, like a child whose innocent belief in fairy tales had been shattered.  

However, Mr. Wharton nonchalantly approached his friends. Soon, he grabbed Mercutio’s shoulder—the one who had died—and turned him toward Natalie.  

“Let me introduce you. This is Mercutio.”  

Mercutio smiled at Natalie, pretending to tip an invisible hat as a greeting. Natalie, caught off guard, returned the greeting.  

“…Your name isn’t really Mercutio, is it?”  

Natalie asked, and Mercutio laughed.  

“It’s up to the person calling me. If you’d like to call me Romeo, I’d gladly be Romeo.”  

Mercutio took Natalie’s hand. Just as his lips were about to touch the back of her hand, Mr. Wharton grabbed Mercutio’s shoulder.  

“I think that’s enough of an introduction.”  

While Mr. Wharton moved Mercutio away from Natalie, the priest handed Natalie a bottle of alcohol as a welcoming gift. However, the priest’s offering was swiftly taken by Mr. Wharton.  

Mr. Wharton handed the confiscated bottle to Romeo. Romeo exaggerated his delight as he accepted the bottle.  

“My goodness, Mr. Wharton has bestowed alcohol upon me.”  

“How generous of him.”  

“Is it true that Mr. Wharton promised to raise our pay?”  

“It’s true, absolutely true.”  

Amid the actors’ playful banter, a voice interrupted.  

“Then is it also true that Mr. Wharton brought his lover along?”  

The voice was low and deep. Natalie recognized it. It belonged to Juliet, the protagonist who had received prolonged applause from the audience.