tellthestory | THE BOX OFFICE

[He snorts.] Right, the Inspector. As long as he doesn't try arresting anybody.

I guess you guys would have to figure it out. There's not that many ways to accidentally hurt yourselves in here. And I'm not supposed to interfere in anything purposeful.

Not like he'd have anywhere to put them, this is already basically a jail.

[ Inspector Javert is a really nice tool, very predictable. So nice to have around. ]

So if someone had an accident, you could help us, but if someone orchestrated the accident, you would not?

[ Haha, see what he did there? ]

[Oh my god]

Basically. If you set someone up to have an accident, that's still murder. Though honestly, seeing someone actually survive a murder attempt would be really inspiring...

[He considers it, then shrugs.]

I don't know, maybe I could work something out. Don't count on it.

[ Good to know, good to know. Hans nods steadily. Plans are happening. Maybe. As a last resort, y'know. But there's none of that outrage he'd normally show at this kind of talk. ]

I'll keep that in mind, then. If it comes to that... Which it hopefully won't.

[ Then again the Balladeer wants a murder so who knows. ]

So, what's the verdict on the champagne?

Right. I'm sure you will.

[Ugh. This guy. He helped write all the profiles, friend, he's not utterly oblivious.]

Fine, whatever. I'll leave some in the kitchen sometime. But this isn't gonna be a regular thing, I'm not your alcohol fairy. [Nonetheless, it'll be surprisingly good quality when it does happen to appear.]

[ If he kills everyone, how will people know he's super awesome? ]

Excellent! Thank you for that.

[ Reasonable requests: confirmed. Definitely no way to weaponize this... ]

You're welcome. Is there anything else...?

Not right now. I'll let you know if I think of something.

[ Bye, bro. Hans turns around before he gets an idea-- ]

Oh, wait. If you work here, does that mean you get to leave? You're not stuck here with the rest of us, are you?

[The Balladeer cocks his head quizzically.]

I don't have anywhere else to go.

So you live here, too?

[ What, can't a guy worry about his weird captor? ]

[literally why would you do that]

Yeah. Not here in this room - [Gesturing at the box office.] - but here.

[ How else would one befriend and manipulate someone if one does not become their friend first? ]

You have your own room? Is it in a wing of the Opera house that the rest of us can't access?

You can't get there. And you don't really need to, either...you all get your private rooms, I get mine.

Interesting. It sounds like you're trapped here as well.

Not really. I mean, does it count being trapped if there's nowhere else to go?

What do you mean, "nowhere else?" There's outside, isn't there?

There aren't any shows going on outside.

Is that all you do, then? Work in these shows? Don't you have, I don't know, a family...?

It isn't my job to have a family.

[Which would seem to answer that question, but.] This is my role. I'm the Balladeer. I facilitate...narrate, you could even say, for other people's stories. I'm not supposed to have one of my own.

Is that all you have? Your job?

[ That's... kind of sad, actually. ]

No one's ever written a story about you?

There wouldn't be much to tell. Just the work I've done - which would just be other peoples' stories once removed, really.

[So, yeah. That is about all that's going on for him.]

That's a bit lonely, don't you think?

[ Have u no friends, Balladeer? ]

You're here just like the rest of us, yet you don't get to be part of the show?

I... [The Balladeer seems a little uncomfortable with this line of questioning. He rises from the desk and steps around it to sit in his chair like a proper office worker, elbows resting in front of himself.] Well, it's always been like that for me. It'd be worse if it were someone like one of you having to do this job.

Besides, this is a lot better than my last situation. Management will step in if anyone tries to hurt me. [He smiles, spreading his hands as if to indicate whatever protection surrounds him.] And I've got this office, and my room, all to myself! Heck, I'm safer now than I've ever been!

[His smile turns a little thoughtful. And gosh, is that the faint sound of music?]

Safe behind these windows and these giant walls of stone
Gazing at the people down below me
All my life I watch them as I hide offstage alone
Hungry for the histories they show me

All my life I'll memorize their faces
Knowing them as they will never know me
All my life I'll wonder how it feels to pass a day
Not above them
But part of them...

[...but he shakes his head, denying the crescendo before it can build.]

It's the variety, you know? I'll probably do a totally different show after this, and there'll be more new people to get to know. I like that part.

[ Aw, did Hans find your insecurities, Balladeer? Do you want to be part of the show? ]

That is a pretty good deal.

[ Maybe he wasn't safe in his last gig? All good things to know. ]

But no one remembers you, do they? The narrators take center stage, but top billing goes to the actors. They're the stars.

[ Hans sounds almost sad to say this. He's starting to understand you, Balladeer. Maybe. ]

Is it worth it?

It doesn't matter if it is or isn't. What else am I going to do?

[But he pauses, tilting his head and looking keenly at Hans for a moment.] I don't want to give you the wrong idea, I don't dislike narrating. Some stories should be told, for one reason or another, and that can be rewarding! I think people get something out of it...sometimes.

But at the end of the day, that hope's what I have. Rule Eight applies to me too. Probably more than the rest of you.

["Everyone is expected to play their parts to the best of their ability."]

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