⫸——⫷

Once you were out of the house, Wally took a deep breath.

Wally could tell that he was getting through to you. Sure, you brushed his charms off like they were specks of dust, but he knew that you liked him. He quite loved your defensive facade; Wally liked the idea of chasing after you, of gradually making you like him more and more — you were playing hard to get, hiding yourself from him and ignoring his friendly remarks. You were not making this obsession easy for him.

He, too, was liking you more with every passing day. It felt like every time you looked at him, his heart was bound to stop beating. He just adored your eyes so much. They were little windows into the enigma that was your soul. Last night was especially fun; you had captivated his heart. He enjoyed the way you acted flustered when he said your name or complimented you, when you threatened him to keep his mouth shut, when you stared back at him like you were challenging him.

Wally tried not to think too much about you. Instead, he walked out of the kitchen and into his office. Days ago, he had put the painting of your old apartment on his shelf, not to be witnessed by anyone. He walked around his empty easel and to the dark wooden desk against the back wall, where he sat down.

In one of the desk drawers were some papers that Sally had given him regarding a job as an editor and actor for the local theatre. Sally worked there in her spare time, but only as an actor. Since the town was so small, the theatre did not make much money, so she was forced to waitress on the side. Wally looked over the papers once more, then picked up the old landline phone on his desk and dialed a number. It rang three times.

"Hello?" a warbled voice said.

"Hi'ya! This is Wally, reaching out in regards to the editing job offer."

The conversation continued. Eventually, the person on the phone told Wally to stop by later that day. It would give Wally the chance to audition for a role in the upcoming play and apply for the editing job. The phone call and the prospect of a new job both allowed Wally's mind to depart briefly from his obsessive thoughts of you, but the moment he hung up the phone, you were on his mind once more.

⫸——⫷

The events of the past few days, aside from your arrival, had been completely ordinary. Next week would be quite different.

Next week, on Sunday, Wally had something to take care of. It was part of the precarious routine that he was forced to indulge in about three times a year, always in the dead of night, when the town was snoring. He tried not to think about it until he absolutely had to, but that time was approaching. He did not want to think about the person that he was going to become next Sunday.

Only Julie knew of his duties, as far as he was aware — but this morning, you confessed to Wally that you had information on him. That made Wally wonder if Julie had spilled his secret. The thought made him nervous, like he was losing control of a careening vehicle.

Wally was currently showering, scrubbing the millions of hair products that he used out of his pompadour. The bathroom was full of pine- and rose-scented steam. He hummed a soft tune as he indulged his thoughts further.

Yesterday evening, during dinner at Javier's Grille, Julie said that she had hung out with you earlier that day. Perhaps their hangout included some very dangerous gossip.

Wally ran his hands over his face, rinsing soap from the contours of his skin. He finished his shower, then redid his pompadour and got dressed. He then read his book for a while. All the while, darkness infiltrated the corners of his mind, not only preparing him for what had to be done next week, but influencing him to do something else — something a little more... behind the scenes. His curiosity was too strong and his obsession too great. He had to do something to relieve the tension that was building within him like an old bridge with a thousand tons weighing it down.

Wally just had to know if you truly knew who he was. If you did, he needed to adequately prepare.

Julie was certainly at work by now, as were you, which meant that your homes would be empty. Wally stood up and walked outside, leaving Home's company. He headed for Julie's house. If she was still there, or if he could not find the answers he sought, he would go to your motel room.

At Julie's, he quietly entered through the front door without knocking. She never locked her door. "Hello?" he whispered into the silent house. No response was made, so Wally crept inside and to the back of the house, where Julie's stairs sat waiting.

Wally made his way upstairs. There was a hallway stretching forward at the top of the landing with light green walls. There were two doors facing each other on either side of the hallway. One was a bathroom and the other was Julie's bedroom; this much he already knew. As quietly as possible, Wally opened the door to Julie's bedroom.

Julie was not here. Perfect. His muscles relaxed.

Wally knew where Julie kept her diary. He had known a long time ago when he first broke into her house. And, no, Wally was not proud of that fact, but everything he did fit into the clockwork of his plans, so it was all justified in his mind. Wally reached a gentle hand underneath Julie's bed and felt around. Eventually, his fingers grasped the soft book. He pulled it out and opened it.

There was an entry for every day, but Wally looked for the most recent one. It looked like she had written last night, but there were no entries past that.

Wally read the entry twice. It looked like Julie had talked about him to you, but had not revealed his secrets, so that was good. She had never broken promises in the past, so it was not too surprising to discover that she had not broken her promise not to tell anyone about the murder she witnessed either.

Wally put Julie's diary back, then left the room. He left her house and skipped down the road on the way to Home, feeling much better having read Julie's diary. He did not feel the need to break into your motel room, for he was satisfied with the answer he found. Now all that bugged him was curiosity about what else you could be hiding from him.

Intending to keep his thoughts about you at bay, Wally decided to paint before he went down to the theatre for his job offer.

But it was that day that Wally discovered something else about you — something game-changing.

⫸——⫷