1. the bar

The owner of the theatre… Amassed a vast fortune… Purchased the deed for the estate...As the bell by the door to the theatre restaurant jingles, I look up from where I’m sitting at the bar table, Ronald of Ness’ figure steadily approaching me to reach for a bottle of whiskey and taking a seat beside me.
“What’s a handsome man like you doing all alone in a place like this?” Norton asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.> I roll my eyes, taking a sip of my water. “Thinking about the case. Nothing you need to worry about.”
> I smirk at him, sliding my glass over to him. “Waiting for you to come by. What else?”

He laughs in response to this, taking my glass from me and emptying it into the sink over the counter despite my protests. “Nothing you should be worrying about too, you know. It’s over, so let loose and enjoy yourself a bit, won’t you?”With that, the actor fills half of the glass up with liquor, taking a sip of it first before handing it back to me. It’s the rare kind too; an 1870 Lagavulin 16 single malt Scotch that would have taken an extraordinary amount of money to obtain, which brings me back to my original train of thought—just where had he gotten his fortune from, out of nowhere?

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The thought lingers in my mind as I swirl the whiskey around in its glass confines, letting the rich, strong aroma waft up before drinking. Perhaps Ronald sensed that something was still plaguing me, for he then slings an arm around my shoulders, startling me enough to drop my cane. It clatters to the floor with a rattle, but I don’t have the liberty to pay it any mind as the next thing I know, Norton’s lips are right next to my ear, breath hot and heavy as he murmurs, “I can’t have the guests of my theatre looking so down, hm? Tell me. What’s on your mind, Inspector?”I’m not drunk enough (yet) to humour his flirtatious advances, but I suppose as my former comrade, I could confide in him…>“It’s just… strange, I suppose. How abruptly the case came to a close, along with my client’s recurring involvement with the actresses of this theatre and the circumstances surrounding them. Don’t you think so?”
>“I’m having a midlife crisis, my back is hurting, I’m balding prematurely, my cousin-twice-removed is trying to steal my fortune and I’m in love with you. Also I think I left the stove on.”

Ronald looks a bit taken aback by this sudden picking up of pace, before composing himself with that same award-winning smile. “You’ve been drinking nothing but water, but you’re already talking like you’re drunk, Detective.”With that, the actor fills half of the glass up with liquor, taking a sip of it first before handing it back to me. It’s the rare kind too; an 1870 Lagavulin 16 single malt Scotch that would have taken an extraordinary amount of money to obtain, which brings me back to my original train of thought—just where had he gotten his fortune from, out of nowhere?

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The thought lingers in my mind as I swirl the whiskey around in its glass confines, letting the rich, strong aroma waft up before drinking. Perhaps Ronald sensed that something was still plaguing me, for he then slings an arm around my shoulders, startling me enough to drop my cane. It clatters to the floor with a rattle, but I don’t have the liberty to pay it any mind as the next thing I know, Norton’s lips are right next to my ear, breath hot and heavy as he murmurs, “I can’t have the guests of my theatre looking so down, hm? Tell me. What’s on your mind, Inspector?”I’m not drunk enough (yet) to humour his flirtatious advances, but I suppose as my former comrade, I could confide in him…> “It’s just… strange, I suppose. How abruptly the case came to a close, along with my client’s recurring involvement with the actresses of this theatre and the circumstances surrounding them. Don’t you think so?”
> “I’m having a midlife crisis, my back is hurting, I’m balding prematurely, my cousin-twice-removed is trying to steal my fortune and I’m in love with you. Also I think I left the stove on.”

Ronald tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing in a manner that suggests he doesn’t quite follow. “Is that so? DM has always had a penchant for beautiful things, but that’s all I know about him.”I take another drink from the glass, savouring how the alcohol burns on the tip of my tongue. “That might be so… Still, isn’t it a bit odd how he demanded the delay of Madame Bella’s autopsy simply because of how infatuated he was with her? And the fact that Bella died of overdose, despite her knowledge of consuming the drug?”“Well, it had been quite some time since she’d last had access to it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d accidentally taken more than she could handle.”

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Something’s off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but the thought lingers like an itch just below the surface of my skin; as irritating as ever but so unreachable.Searching in my pocket for a light, I place the glass of whisky down in front of Ronald, who takes a drink as I fish out my pipe. It’s been a while since I’ve felt the need to find resolve in tobacco; with how busy the past few weeks have been, coupled with the suffocating feeling the theatre seemed to emanate, I’ve rarely the chance to take a puff, and I’m starting to think it shows with the way Ronald offers me a smile and hands me his lighter instead.“Keep it. You look a little scatterbrained, kinda like when you misplace your holster or somethin’ and the lieutenant gets on your case about it.”

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“That was only a few times,” I mutter, taking the light anyways and holding the pipe up to my lips. Those times in the army with Ronald felt so long ago; it was something I preferred not to reminisce on, lest some… unpleasant memories took the opportunity to resurface. Spending the majority of a man’s so-called “golden years” serving for a country that never gave a shit about him… some would find it a waste of time; maybe even pitiful, or worse, patriotic. I never had a choice. The only path for an orphan with no education, no money and nobody to turn to wasn’t an ideal one, by far, but I had supposed it better than rotting on the street being eaten by rats.The thought that I wouldn’t have met Ronald- no, Norton, that’s his real name- if not for our time serving together briefly crosses my mind, but I pay it no attention, blowing out a cloud of smoke.“It’s not like you weren’t a sack of shit back then either too, always staying out late with women and being the last to wake up. Remember when you slept through an entire emergency drill and our troop leader thought you’d died?”Ronald laughs. “Drunk and heartbroken, I might as well have been dead.” Heartbroken? That’s new. Though I suppose I haven’t really inquired much of his romantic life, even in all the time I’ve known him for. (Not that there was much romance in promiscuity, but the idea is there.)> Maybe now’s the time. If anything goes astray, I can simply blame it on the alcohol talking, right? “What do you mean, heartbroken?”
> This is ridiculous. I shake my head to clear the remnants of the past from dragging themselves out. “Hope your job managed to change your sleeping habits, then. I suppose after all the gossip died down, the theatre’s been doing quite well?”

Ronald's eyes widen, and he grips my hand, caressing it gently under his gloves.
"You know you can tell me anything, right, dear old Inference?"We spend the next few hours having a heart-to-heart amongst men, where we end up talking out our differences and agreeing to elope together to a faraway country.

END
Change your mind?

Ronald smiles wistfully, swirling his whisky in its glass. There's a faraway look in his eye; something I can't place, despite how long I've known him for. Nevertheless, he seems to come back to the present after a while, taking a lengthy sip of his drink and staring down the brim of his hat at me."You know, for such an attentive colonel, you really were blind to a lot of things," he says, and I frown. I dislike being criticised, especially by those closer to me; it feels personal. "What do you mean?"Ronald shakes his head, smiling emptily once again—the smile he'd usually reserve for overenthusiastic fans, or the higher-ups back in the army. "Tell you another time, when things get easier."Well. There's no point trying to convince him; Norton has always been a stubborn man. I sigh, and cross my ankles, leaning back.> "I suppose after all the gossip died down, the theatre’s been doing quite well?”

"Ah, yes! Quite the attraction it will be, especially with our new star actress." Ronald's tone becomes almost unbearably honeyed, as if he were trying to appraise the subject of our conversation herself. "Why, I did have to pull a few strings to get her to join the company, but in the end, it's the show that matters, isn't it?"I hum, not entirely grasping the nuances of the conversation, and take another drag, letting the smoke rise up in clouds between us. "I suppose I'll have to stop by again sometime to catch her in action."Ronald smiles. "Oh, that won't be necessary." There's something in his demeanour again; that same feeling that negotiating with a dangerous criminal or interrogating an outlaw gives me. It's present for a split second, so miniscule that I could have imagined it, and then it's gone, Ronald's gaze warm and easygoing again. "As in, that won't be necessary because I'll be making sure you get VIP tickets to the first show, my dear Inference."

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It's then that I realise Ronald is leaning forwards, placing his hand on my knee below the table. Immediately, the blood rushes to my face, and I jerk away, not particularly out of disgust or distaste, but... just pure surprise. Nothing more."Sorry," I breathe, unable to meet his gaze that I just know is nothing other than smug as hell right now. "Just— caught me off guard.""I know, Mister Colonel," he replies smoothly, taking his hand back as easily as he'd placed it. If this is how he'd used to seduce the late-night city women back in the day, I'd completely understand why they seemed to give in to his charms so easily. "Can't help your old wartime habits, mm?"Sure. I'll take it.At the same time, though... Part of me yearned for more of that touch, to see what it would be like to be caressed, wooed, maybe even wanted by this man. Was that too much, for the short amount of time we'd spent together in the past few days?> Get it together, Subedar. You came here for work, not to get your dick wet. I clear such thoughts from my head, and flick the ash from my pipe. "Well, things seem to be going well. I'll be headed back to the bureau in the morning, so..."
> Inching closer, I press my knee back up against his calf, nudging against him lightly. My gaze is fixed sternly on the glass on the table, cheeks flushing a light red again. A signal... if he was sharp enough to get it.

"Leaving so soon?" Ronald almost sounds genuinely dejected, though I can't imagine my presence at the theatre meaning anything but unfortunate circumstances. He sets his glass down on the table, our cups making a clink! noise before returning his gaze to me. "Shame you'll be missing our grand re-opening in a week or two, but I understand. Work has always been the most important duty to you, hasn't it?"There's something bitter about the way he says that last sentence, though I can't possibly think of a reason why. I shrug, exhaling smoke into the air. "Woods has been on my case about taking a vacation for ages, but I don't need one. Especially not when crime is at an all-time high, according to our latest report."Norton laughs, and my stomach squeezes. "You say the funniest things, Subedar."There it is again. That gorgeous smile, masking something unreadable beneath it. I've never been subjected to his fake smiles before meeting him again as Ronald of Ness, and somehow, it irritates me, despite myself knowing I have no right to be upset. Is this something he learned in acting school?> "Actually, why are you opening up the theatre again so early? It's only been a short while since the news broke, aren't you afraid of bad press? Or worse, rumours about your takeover being premediated?"
> "...I should get going. My train leaves early tomorrow morning."

Ronald makes a choking noise in the back of his throat, and I'm convinced that whatever that was earlier was a complete accident, and that now he's absolutely disgusted with me and wants nothing to do with me, and I'm ready to stand up and leave without a word... when I feel a warmth back on my leg, this time closer to the middle of my thigh. I look up, and there's Norton with his dorky grin, gaze intense and fiery in his silky chocolate eyes, almost too much to bear as my heartbeat quickens.Shit. So he was for real. Does that mean...?Chewing on my pipe, I try to play it casual, almost choking on my next puff of tobacco. "Well, things seem to be going well. I'll be headed back to the bureau in the morning, so..."

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"Leaving so soon?" Ronald almost sounds genuinely dejected, though I can't imagine my presence at the theatre meaning anything but unfortunate circumstances. He sets his glass down on the table, our cups making a clink! noise before returning his gaze to me. "Shame you'll be missing our grand re-opening in a week or two, but I understand. Work has always been the most important duty to you, hasn't it?"There's something bitter about the way he says that last sentence, though I can't possibly think of a reason why. I shrug, exhaling smoke into the air. "Woods has been on my case about taking a vacation for ages, but I don't need one. Especially not when crime is at an all-time high, according to our latest report."Norton laughs, and my stomach squeezes. "You say the funniest things, Subedar."There it is again. That gorgeous smile, masking something unreadable beneath it. I've never been subjected to his fake smiles before meeting him again as Ronald of Ness, and somehow, it irritates me, despite myself knowing I have no right to be upset. Is this something he learned in acting school?> "Actually, why are you opening up the theatre again so early? It's only been a short while since the news broke, aren't you afraid of bad press? Or worse, rumours about your takeover being premediated?"
> "...I should get going. My train leaves early tomorrow morning."

Ronald's smile thins. "I have no place for baseless rumours. The world of acting and fame is a cruel one, so it does not do well to dwell on such things."Despite my instincts telling me to leave it and simply enjoy the rest of the night, I continue to press further, determined to unveil the reason behind his secretive demeanour."I don't mean to offend you in any way, but I was always curious about how the theatre fell into your hands, out of everyone. I had assumed it would go to that D.M. person, or a relative of Scrooge's, no? Why did y—""That's enough."Ronald's eyes are narrowed, though he still continues to uphold that ficticious smile of his. It's almost unsettling to see him like this, and it does nothing but amplify the bad feeling in my stomach. Yet still I press on, unable to leave this behind us."You know, you were one of my prime suspects for a while. It was hard to come to terms with having to accuse a former colleague—" I see his gaze harden even more at that word— "but the world taught me that anyone, even those you love, can turn against you at any moment."I can see Norton's old temper rear its head, threatening to fight back and wreak havoc, and for a moment, it seemed as if he were about to lose his composure after all. I reach for my cane under the table, but my fingers swipe at air, feeling nothing.One glance underneath the table was all it would take, apparently. In an instant, Ronald has me in a headlock, strong, muscular forearm wrapped snugly around my throat and a gloved hand holding a cloth soaked with a foul-tasting liquid that I immediately recognise to be chloroform over my mouth. In my half-inebriated, dizzy state, I attempt to struggle free, thrashing around and sending the glasses flying, but it's no use. Even my attempts at holding my breath prove to be more difficult with each passing moment, and as I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness, the last thing I hear is something in Spanish, whispered into the shell of my ear.> "Lo siento."

Lo siento.Lo siento.Lo siento...I wake up with a hoarse gasp, my body numb and my mind spinning. I'm in a dimly lit room, the air musty and stale, and my limbs are bound to a wooden chair, the knots clearly of a military standard as my struggles prove fruitless. Damn that fucking actor, he clearly knows exactly which buttons to press.Looking around, I begin to scan the room for any other sources of light, my mind working to rationalise despite the drugs and alcohol running in my bloodstream. Trying to reach for my pocket knife would be impossible with how my wrists are tied; plus, if that bastard is smart enough to be able to kidnap me, he'd definitely have removed everything from my pockets. I'm almost done scanning the room when a voice from behind me sounds up."Awake now, dear Inference?"A sense of rage and fear boils in me, and I spit out my next words with contempt. "Don't call me that.""Call you what? Inference?" An arm slinks around my shoulders, and I feel Norton's breath, hot and heavy on my neck. "Or did you mean dear?"
I refuse to humour him with a response, but he seems to take it as an invitation to keep going, lips brushing the tip of my ear. "You know, I've always wanted to see you like this, all tied up and pretty beneath me. Shame I won't be seeing much more of it, though..."My throat closes up, and I take a shuddering breath."What do you want?"

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"Hmm... To answer the question of what I 'want', is a difficult one, is it not?" Ronald's warmth retracts, and I shiver, suddenly realising just how cold I am in this basement of sorts. "Rather, why don't I tell you what it is that I don't want?"The actor makes a show of stepping around my chair, pacing leisurely in front of me with my very cane in hand. That insolent brat. "What I don't want is for the details of my acquisition of the theatre out there in the open, you know? It's fine to have some speculation here and there, but I'm afraid I'm bound to keep things under wraps. Can't have you exposing an actor's secrets, no?"I notice how he uses the word 'bound'; as if he were obliged by some sort of contract to keep the details confidential."What I don't want is for you to keep snooping around, trying to figure out everything about a goddamn closed case, when you could just be on your way home, and none of this would have happened. You only have yourself to blame for trying to stick your nose in places it shouldn't be, so it's really not my fault you're down here now, is it?"I could almost laugh. No way this was the same Campbell I knew from before. Or was it? Even after all this time, could I still really say I knew him? When I had blatantly ignored his advances, pushed him to limits with training like with no other of my recruits, left him when he needed me?As if he could pick up on my thoughts, Ronald's voice grows choked, and rough fingers grab my chin, forcing it up to look at him. "What I really don't want is for you ta— to abandon me again, y'know...? All those years, staring at your back, wondering when you would finally turn around and face me, accept me...! And you just take off the moment you find a new job, just like that, huh—? Without so much as a second thought to the one that's been by your side all this time, no matter what?" His voice sounds desperate, broken even, for a moment, as he asks, "Do you know what that does to somebody?"There's nothing I can say to that. Nothing can rectify whatever I'd done in the past, and I'll be damned if Norton thinks that I'm a coward for it, because I was. That was the whole reason I'd run away from him in the first place, because the moment feelings got involved, especially in war, things would get messy, fast.With a swift movement, so fast I can barely follow it, Ronald's arm rears back, as if to strike me, and I brace for impact, shutting my eyes and gritting my teeth. It never comes, though, and I open my eyes in confusion.That's when I hear the click of a gun, and the feeling of cold, hard metal against my jaw.

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"I didn't want it to come to this, but it seems like you leave me no choice." Ronald's voice is cold and unfeeling, and if I met his gaze, I'm sure he would have the exact same hidden smile curling at his lips, twisting his handsome features in all the wrong ways."You can either die right here, at the hands of your former 'colleague', where nobody will find your body and you will remain lost to the world forever..."Then, for a moment, the gun retracts, pointing past my face and at the darkness behind me."...or you can join me. Just the two of us. To hell with the theatre, I can't breathe properly with that... French noble, breathing down my neck, just waiting for an opportunity to strike. I refuse to do his dirty work for him any longer. There's already too much tragedy associated with this place. We can run away, make a life for ourselves, where nobody from our past can find us again. Wouldn't that be nice? Wouldn't you like that?"I suck in a breath. This choice... would ultimately determine my life, both in the present and the future. Would I choose an honourable death, refusing to give in to the whims of corruption? Or would I—...> "........go to hell, bastard. You're not the man I knew."
> "........just us, together..."

Ronald's lip curls, and he laughs, a sound that echoes in the chamber for far too long, yet nothing about it sounds joyous at all; rather, I can feel his anguish, bitterness, sorrow, pain, all at once in that horrifying cackle."Well, that's just too bad for you, isn't it, dear detective?" he croons, but even in the dim lighting, I can see that the corners of his eyes are glistening, and my stomach lurches. To have such an honest, hardworking man, turned into the likes of just another puppet for the masterminds above that refuse to get their hands dirty... it's ironic, my ends being met in such a way and by someone like this of all people. If there exists a god, He truly is cruel, cruel in ways that cannot be comprehended."I know you don't want to kill me," I mutter, and Ronald's chest heaves. "I don't want to die either. I still have my job, my duty to return to, my country to serve, my... well, was there anything else living for? When all my life, the only thing I've been doing is surviving, rather than living?"My shoulders fall, but my gaze stays level with his, full of contempt and resigned determination. If this is what has to be done, then there is nothing I can do but to close my eyes and accept fate."Forgive me, but I will be laying down my life for my duty once more."Before the gunshot rings, I hear a sob, half-muffled, half-audible, but fully broken.

END

At my response, Ronald breathes out a sigh of relief, something that catches me by surprise. The gun does not leave my cheek, but instead, I nuzzle into it, pressing my nose up against the barrel as my hazy gaze meets his. What am I doing? Something I should have done a long time ago, I tell myself. I've put my duty first all this time, working to make ends meet, to satisfy those above me, when I could have searched for what I wanted. Who I wanted."Are... Are you sure about this, Naib?" he asks, visibly confused; which, fair enough. I'd been practically abducted by the man, tied up and threatened with death, and here I am, about to join him. He's... also never called me by my real name before.To hell with anything else. It's about time I thought about my own path."Take me with you," I whisper, and the cold metal, warmed up by my cheek, clatters to the ground, but my eyes are fixed on him. "Let's go somewhere. Anywhere. As long as it's with you, I don't care.""I—"Ronald's dropped to his knees in front of me, his gloved hands clutching at my knees, still bound together. His voice is shaky, trembling as much as his frame as he speaks in a hoarse whisper. "I— I didn't think you would—""I should have done this a long time ago," I murmur, and Ronald breathes, perhaps a true breath of air for once. "I never should have left you alone in a place like that. I wanted to come back for you, find you, but—""Don't," is the reply I get, and I understand. In moments, the bounds around my body are undone, and he hoists me up around his shoulders, my own strength already long since faded. We leave the compound together in silence, ready to make our own path for ourselves. In that moment, I finally feel alive again.

END

Ronald stands up before I do, taking our glasses in hand. "Shall I send you off too, or is that too intimate for you?" His tone is teasing, but I still flush at the suggestion, snuffing my pipe and tucking it back into my coat pocket. "Ah, but before you leave... one last drink, for old times' sake?"Funny, Ronald's never been one to particularly enjoy alcohol... but I suppose his career has changed that. I accept with a nod, standing up and retrieving my cane from where it lies against the wall. Ronald of Ness pours me, then himself a drink, handing me the glass across the bar table. Our fingertips touch, and just for a second, he seems to look... lost, forlorn, wistful, even.Of course, it disappears in a flash, and the actor lifts his glass, myself following suit as we toast once more. "To the future," he says, his eyes never once breaking contact with mine as he raises the glass to his lips.> "To the future."

We drink in silence, the alcohol clawing its way down my throat and leaving a fiery aftertaste in my mouth. As invigorating as whisky was, I can't help but feel like there was something missing. Something I had yet to do. My neck is flushed with sweat, whether it be from the temperature of the room or the alcohol, and I wipe it away with the back of my sleeve, staring across the table at Norton.Perhaps Emma was right. I do need a vacation... or at least, I need to loosen up, after weeks on weeks of working, and right here was an opportunity to do so.Taking a breath, I reach up and remove my monocle, tucking it away in my breast pocket. My thoughts are becoming increasingly murky, most likely due to the alcohol's influence, so I have to be sure to get my intentions across as clearly as possible. Ronald's gaze seems almost inviting, as the corners of his soft, plump lips lift up in a hint of a smile, and I step forward, eyes fixed on that handsome face as I open my mouth.Suddenly, a bout of dizziness washes over me, and I stumble into his large, stocky frame, arms grasping around him as my vision blurs. "H—What—""Shh, it'll be over soon, darling..."The last thing I see before the world goes dark is his unfeeling, unreadable smile.

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END

Thank you for reading! This was a passion project of mine heavily inspired by choose-your-own-adventure books and visual novels, and I had a lot of fun writing the different scenarios and endings. Please leave a kudos on the original AO3 link and let me know what you thought of it in the comments!
—author