You've chosen to go back to Virgil's apartment! If this isn't the decision you wanted, feel free to return to Chapter 77!
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The story you are about to read was written by Rose, mind_writing

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"Yeah," Logan breathed, running a hand through his hair. "I think I'd like that."

The police had offered an escort, seeing as it was unsafe to drive while upset, but Virgil insisted that he'd be fine. The drive was about fifteen minutes, and they never spoke a word. Virgil looked as though he were concentrating, but Logan could see how his eyes glazed over. Even if he wanted to drive, Logan couldn't seem to open his mouth to speak.

They pulled in a parking garage, and Logan still couldn't believe what was happening; it was as if he couldn't think things over enough. Roman had just been murdered, not in a show, but in real life, and now Logan would be spending the night at the apartment of a guy he hadn't spoken to since high school. They weren't too far from high school, being just out of college, but it was still odd to think about, how they all lived in such a small town without crossing paths.

Logan felt faint as they took the elevator to the third floor, and almost on the brink of passing out as Virgil unlocked his apartment.

"I know you didn't get to finish your dinner..." Virgil said quietly as Logan wordlessly went to sit on the couch. "I have some food here, if you're hungry..."

"I'm...I'm not..." Logan managed, his voice somehow sounding outside of himself in a way. Disassociation, Logan had assumed, must be a part of denial. It was as if he wasn't here right now, living this life.

Virgil walked in and sat on the couch, seeming stiff. He breathed out, and it was though he'd deflated. "What are we going to do?" He asked himself quietly. "I...I don't know..." he looked over at Logan as if he were holding something back, wanting to do or say something, but he held still. Logan reached out a hand in the dim light, not bothering to say Virgil had only turned on the kitchen light, and barely touched Virgil's hand. He felt as though he were about to choke on the lump in his throat; he'd never been so emotional before.

Virgil grabbed onto his hand, and they just stayed there for a while.

It must have been a long time, though Logan didn't have the strength to do anything, and Virgil was drifting off against his shoulder. It had been a long night for the both of them. Roman's corpse was being investigated, and Logan couldn't stop thinking about it. He needed to know; he needed to find out firsthand who could kill someone as good as Roman. Sure, he could be a bit egotistical sometimes, but what could motivate someone to commit murder?

Logan got up carefully, leaning Virgil on some blankets, and found a desk in a small room. It had a notepad on it, so Logan started writing down everything he knew in a jumbled mess.

Roman Sanders, 23, married to Patton Jackson for 3 years, worked at scarlet murder mystery restaurant, Virgil worked lights, friend since high school, childhood friend: Dan Miller, friends?? Remy from theatre, location-based?? ...please. Psychic shop, next to scarlets, ran by . . . . Declan—something.

Logan breathed heavily, heart pounding as he circled the names. The names of suspects:

Patton

Virgil

Dan

Remy

Declan

Logan was almost certain Virgil hadn't done it, seeing as he was behind the bar, but he did hear footsteps. He heard lots of things. Saw things, smelled things, felt things. He couldn't trust himself, not now. His eyes shifted. He couldn't help but go through the suspects, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere. Patton couldn't have done it, he was a loving and happy husband, and they were raising a five-year-old daughter. Then again...no. Stop. Dan had always been odd, but that alone didn't necessarily guarantee anything. He had been a kind enough childhood friend, sad a lot, and Logan was aware he and Roman hadn't talked to him in a while. Remy had been in quite a few plays with Roman, and he was surely at least a little upset when he took this job without him. Declan...that was harder. He remembered Roman speaking of him, how creepy he was, how he gave him shivers every time he came to a show. He couldn't work on that alone either...

"Hey," Virgil's voice had snapped him out of his thoughts. Logan couldn't be mad, seeing as he wasn't getting anywhere anyway. Virgil's voice sounded calm and almost soothing, though Logan knew he was exhausted. "I'm sorry if I interrupted anything...but you should probably get some sleep. It's four in the morning. I can go to my bed, if you want the couch for yourself.

Logan swallowed and stood. Without thinking, he hugged Virgil, the latter wrapping his arms around him as well. "I don't want you to leave me alone..." Logan muttered, and he was almost surprised at how broken and vulnerable his voice sounded.

"Me either," Virgil muttered, "do you wanna come back to the couch? I can get...I can get us some blankets and stuff..."

Logan nodded numbly and moved back to the couch, breathing out a sigh of exhaustion and hopelessness. He wanted, for some reason, to scratch at his skin just to feel something, just to feel worse.

Virgil came in with a bunch of fuzzy blankets, and they sat on the couch side by side. Logan had his arm wrapped around Virgil, and Virgil was breathing in almost-content as he held onto Logan's other arm. Back when Logan and Roman were in high school, Virgil would come over and play video games with them, and he almost always ended up cuddled close to Roman's side. Logan didn't even know what to do with this memory.

Virgil almost whimpered and gasped in his sleep, squirming as his face expressed unease. He must be having a nightmare.

Logan felt his eyes slip shut, and he was falling asleep.
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