The black SUV had been trailing him for three blocks, its tinted windows reflecting the sickly yellow glow of the streetlights.

Sterling was running because he, for a fact knew, that the man in the SUV was a news reporter. Some hours ago, Sterling had sneaked out, without his bodyguards, to take a stroll, have some space. He had decided to wear an oversized hoodie, and a mask, to stay undercover. But, For some reason, Sterling constantly had been thinking about the girl he had encountered in the hospital.

She was a civilian, So, there was a chance that he would encounter her again if he gets out like a civilian. But instead of getting encountering the girl he wanted to encountering, he ended up getting seen by a news reporter. He was now being chased by a black SUV.

Sterling gripped the steering wheel of his own car until his knuckles matched the color of the cream card tucked into his visor. He couldn't go home—the paps were probably already camped outside his gates like vultures waiting for a carcass.

He took a sharp right, tires screeching against the light dusting of snow, and killed his headlights. He didn't know this part of the city. The buildings here were hunched together, ancient and scarred by soot.

"5th and Main," he whispered, the words feeling like lead in his mouth. "I've officially lost it."

He shoved the car into park behind a row of overflowing dumpsters and stepped out, pulling his hoodie up. The 'Voice' in his head, usually a constant, vibrating hum of cold commands, had gone eerily silent the moment he stepped onto the cracked pavement. The silence was louder than any scream.

He started to walk. Now that he was close to the place he had not planned to go to, why not go the exact address on the card? As he walked, he couldn't help thinking about that girl. Sterling had never believed in love at first sight, but now, he was experiencing it himself. The more he thought about her, the better he felt. He just had one regret, he never asked for her name, or phone number.

He ducked into a narrow alleyway, the brick walls closing in on him. He was looking for a door—any door—that matched the embossed lantern on the card. Suddenly, he felt extreme goosebumps. The same feeling he had had during that encounter with the girl in the hospital. 

"Hey!" a voice barked from the shadows.

Sterling flinched, his hand instinctively going to his face to hide from a potential camera flash. But there was no flash. Only a guy standing near a heavy iron service door. He looked about Sterling’s age, but his clothes were rumpled, his hair was a mess, and he looked like he’d just been hit by a freight train.

"You looking for the shop?" the guy asked. He sounded breathless, his eyes darting toward the street Sterling had just escaped.

Sterling straightened his posture, slipping back into his 'public' mask—cold, distant, and untouchable.

"I'm looking for a reason to stay in this alley for more than five seconds. Who are you? A reporter?"

The guy let out a hollow, jagged laugh. "A reporter? Man, I don't even know who I am right now." he paused, apparently, reluctant to reveal too much. "By the way, if you have a card with a lantern on it, we're probably in the same kind of hell."

Sterling didn't move. He kept his back to the brick wall, eyes tracking the stranger. The guy didn't look like a process server or a paparazzo—he looked like he was vibrating out of his own skin. He was wearing a college hoodie, but his face was pale, his eyes rimmed with the kind of red that suggested a very long, very bad night.

"You're blocking the way," Sterling said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register he used for difficult board meetings.

The guy let out a short, hysterical breath. He didn't move. Instead, he pulled a crumpled bit of cream-colored cardstock from his pocket. The embossed lantern caught the dim light of the alley.

"I'm not blocking anything," the stranger whispered. "The door is locked. I think... I think it’s waiting for both of us."

Sterling felt a chill that had nothing to do with the snow. He looked down at the identical card in his own hand. Two strangers, one dead-end alley, and a door that shouldn't exist.

"Who sent you?" Sterling demanded.

"I don't know," the guy replied, looking at the heavy iron door with genuine fear.

"But there's been a voice in my voice in my head that told me that if I didn't come here, the 'truth' would stay an illusion forever."

Sterling’s heart hammered against his ribs. Illusion. The word felt like a direct attack on his own Steely Voice. The guy gave a wierd laugh

"You must think I'm crazy," He said, for the first time since they had met, the guy looked nervous. "Hearing voices in my head and all that"

"No," said Sterling, "not really"

Sterling didn't think that the guy was crazy. Especially because Sterling could relate. After all, ever since he had had that encounter with the mysterious voice, Sterling had been hearing a hum of voice too. None of that was told to the guy of course.

"Really?" said the guy, sounding surprised. "Well, that's new."

"What's new?"

"Well," said the guy, kinda awkwardly, "If you tell someone that you have a "voice in your head", they'll normally think you're crazy, wouldn't they?"

"So, you want me to think you're crazy?" asked Sterling, now having fun. For some reason, he felt really comfortable talking to this guy.

"What? No! obviously not!" said the guy, "I was just kinda surprised. That's all!"

"Fine, if you say so," said Sterling, he wanted to changed the topic now, "The door still not opening?"

As though waiting for him to ask, the door swung open, all by itself, toppling the guy.

"What the-" He blurted, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. "You a magician or something?" the guy asked in surprise.

"Oh! yeah!" said Sterling, "I thought you would've guessed it by now!"

"Oh! he's no magician Jake" said someone from the other side of the door. "But you can get up now."

Jake, so that was the guy's name. Sterling realized they never introduced themselves even though they had been talking for 15 minutes!

Sterling squinted at the man in the doorway, he looked vaguely familiar. Then it clicked. It was Arthur, the person who had saved him in the car crash.

"A-Arthur?" said Sterling in astonishment. "What're you doing here?"

"Oh! I donno!" said Arthur loudly, sarcasm in his voice. "Maybe waiting for the rich your highness to turn up?"

That made Sterling less sure if it really was the man who had rescued him.

"Hey! Aren't you that water bottle guy from the park?" Asked Jake, "You weren't so rude that day."

"And FYI, we're the ones who've been waiting for hours for someone to open the door"

"Yeah!" said Jake, "With hours meaning 20 minutes."

Sterling looked at him sharply with a Bro-stop-ruining-the-vibe look.

"What?"

"Oh nothing!" said Sterling, mockingly. "Its not like you ruined the whole vibe of my sentence!"

Jake rolled his eyes.

"You two get along." said Arthur, "Guess our pairing skills have improved!"

"What happened to you Arthur?" asked Sterling, "You were so polite when you had rescued me!"

"Rescued?" asked Jake, "What're are you talking about? Recued you from where? What happened to you?"

"well, lets just say, I've been in an accident recently."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Jake, "Slow down little princess, A car accident, you say?"

"I didn't even say the word car! and you call me a magician." said Sterling with a pout. " And who you calling princess?"

"You, of course!" said Jake, "So, It was a car accident, right?"

"Yeah."

"Blond hair, bright grey eyes, a handsome face..."

"Thanks!"

"Been in a car accident recently." Jake thought for a moment, "You aren't Sterling Vance, By any chance, are you? Don't worry. I'm not a fan."

"Well then, I am."

"If you guys are done sharing stories, can we go inside now?" asked Arthur. "And also, call me Cyrus from now on."

"Wasn't your name Arthur" said Sterling and Jake at the same time. Sterling was liking this guy now.

"Uh," sighed Arthur/Cyrus. "Get in, I'll explain."

They both hesitated, looked at each other, an I-don't-think-we-have-a-choice look, and then decided to follow. For some reason, even though they had met less then an hour ago, Sterling felt like he had known Jake for years.