Months ago.
"I spoke with the crew."
It was a beautiful garden where they sat, and a lovely day for this conversation.
"They all saw it—the illusion."
Director Groux turned to Averie.
"How did you manage it?"
The actor was sitting next to him, but he wasn't himself. These days, he barely ever was.
His saliva was dripping, and his eyes were lost in a fantasy he couldn't peer into. His fingers twitched, but only ever slightly.
"Do you…" Averie began with great difficulty, fighting away the pull of the unknown within. "Do you know how a person can be influenced?"
His gaze was still just as lost, but his lips now moved.
The good director shifted his entire body to face him. "No."
He didn't give the question a proper thought, as if his own answer didn't matter.
"Tell me."
He only cared for his answer.
"It's not difficult."
Like dew on grass or a steed on steroids, Averie's eyelashes were drenched.
