Bad Life

I might be wrong… but were you working in the basement?
Teddy didn’t answer, only rolled his eyes. His expression said it all—his face had gone completely pale. If I hadn’t run into him in the banquet hall… Just imagining it made cold sweat break out on me. Teddy muttered to the frozen me.
“It doesn’t matter. I found you now.”
“Do you have the mask? You do, right? Show it to me.”
“Uh… I don’t.”
“Damn it!”
I sprang at Teddy, yanked off his jacket like tearing cloth, and held him while rifling his clothes. He struggled and resisted, but I was stronger. At his waistband I found a mask and let out a sigh. It wasn’t the plain white mask the others wore, but an animal mask painted with a parrot’s head.
My legs gave out and I staggered backward. For a long moment we just stared at each other; Teddy wouldn’t meet my eyes, tapping the floor with his shoe tip. My misplaced anger flared toward Teddy.
“Do you even know where you crawled into?”
I asked quietly; he didn’t reply and turned his face away. Fury rose in my chest and I shouted.
“Can’t even hold yourself together? You stupid bastard—why’d you stick your feet into something like this instead of just being a neighborhood thug?”
No matter how much I called him a punk, Teddy wasn’t inherently bad. The was a different world, one he should never have entered. He’d had no clue what the was. Who knew what vengeance or consequences awaited him there? I had dragged another innocent person into this again, without realizing it.
I crushed the mask in my hand to make it unusable and threw it to the floor, stamping on it until it lay in tatters. Only then did I turn back to Teddy, breathing hard.
“If you knew what it was, why did you go?”
He muttered, almost inaudibly, “I didn’t know… and you said you were here.”
“Enough. Let’s go.”
I had to abandon any promise to Jerome. Whether or not Jerome crawled to Timothy in the basement, I had no intention of sending Teddy there. What had happened to Cal and James must never happen to Teddy. I hauled the still-seated Teddy to his feet and brushed dust from his clothes.
“I’m sorry I left without a word. Let’s go back to Portsmouth together.”
“Uh… okay… but right now?”
“Yes. Let’s go. You and me, right now.”
I wiped the tear-stained tracks on his cheeks with my palm; Teddy stood still, letting me do it. But when we tried to leave the changing room, he grabbed my sleeve. I turned; his face was set, and he just looked at me. A sudden unease gripped me. I took his hand.
“Why? Why can’t we go?”

He let out a sigh. “I have to work until seven tomorrow morning. If we leave now, I’ll have to pay a penalty and refund my advance…”
“That’s nothing—I’ll pay it all. Just go.”
“Where are you going to get that money?”
“I have it. Now come on.”
“……”
Teddy stared at me for a long moment before exhaling. I was fidgeting, but he brushed my hand away and stood silently. Growing anxious, I tapped my shoe against the floor to get his attention, but he didn’t move. With his head down, he sighed deeply several times.
“What’s wrong? What are you worried about?”
Unable to contain my frustration, I demanded. Only then did Teddy raise his head and look at me. With extreme hesitation, he broached an unexpected topic.
“You spent years searching everywhere for someone—a crossdresser named Christine, about our age. You found them, right? The one you fought at Moulin Rouge?”
I swallowed and nodded briefly. Teddy scratched the back of his head.
“I could have run off with you without saying a word… but it felt wrong. Even though we fought, you two seemed to have your reasons…”
“Where are they? What happened to them?”
“In the basement.”
Teddy lowered his eyes and added, “They’re not in good shape.”
Jamie’s tortured figure in the flashed vividly in my mind—mocked, beaten, dragged, doused in filth, humiliated. If Teddy and I ran away now, what would become of Christopher? I could imagine it all too well: he would remain the Club’s dog, just as always.
But this moment was our chance to save Teddy. It might never come again. And if we were caught trying to escape with Christopher, one misstep would doom all three of us. Christopher would be lost, and Teddy’s fate would become irreversible.
There was no time for idle worry—but neither choice was easy. I stood frozen, fists clenched.
“Here.”
Teddy rifled through the lockers and suddenly tossed me a mask—the one with the parrot head. “They give two each, including a spare. This one’s yours.”
“And you?”
He smacked another locker’s lock with his elbow; it clicked open. He pulled out a bear mask and said casually, “I’ll just steal one.”
We had no time to hesitate. Teddy moved briskly, urged me to tuck the mask into my clothes, then strode out of the changing room. Leaving the hall’s pounding music behind, we wound our way through corridors until we emerged onto a secluded lawn behind the mansion.
Teddy slipped on his mask first; I followed. We looked at each other’s animal heads—ridiculous, yet neither of us laughed. Teddy led the way down a long corridor behind the mansion. A few masked figures passed us; this time there were women among them. Ladies in white masks and long gowns were escorted by masked gentlemen toward a chapel at the corridor’s end.
As we neared the chapel, I whispered, “This could be dangerous…”
Teddy shrugged. “Then I’ll owe you more.”
We entered the chapel—the official entrance to the . Inside, the decor was minimal: a grand door stood open, a red carpet on the stairs beyond it looked ominous. But Teddy and I slipped behind a curtain to another door. A narrow staircase led down to a kitchen where masked staff bustled about, ignoring us entirely.
We followed suit, pretending to be busy, and exited the kitchen into a hallway lined with rooms—bathrooms and chambers—but Teddy paid them no mind. At the hallway’s end, a heavy velvet curtain blocked our path. Teddy glanced at me; I nodded, and we parted the curtain to enter the .
As before, the was full of impeccably dressed masked guests playing, conversing, dancing—no different from an ordinary party, except that now women wore masks too. White masks, ornate white masks, animal masks—all worn by both men and women.
Without stopping to take in the scene, Teddy led me along the salon’s edge, pretending to be on an errand. I followed closely, heart pounding. The masks protected us; no one could recognize my face, and I avoided those in white masks to steer clear of Timothy. Keeping calm, I watched Teddy’s back.
After a few rooms, Teddy turned down a side corridor and abruptly stopped. He faced me.
“I don’t know what you’ve done or where you’ve been, so don’t be shocked. We’ll look suspicious.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. We entered what surprised me was a restroom—gleaming clean, lavishly decorated, with tables, leather sofas, mirrors, towels, perfumes. Beyond a partition lay the actual stalls.
In the furthest stall, men in white masks and suits had gathered, and to my astonishment, there were a couple of women in white masks too. I heard brief laughter and light chatter. Still calm, Teddy crossed through the partitions. Inside were only urinals and toilets—whatever their amusement, I couldn’t tell. But a chill ran down my spine.
We approached the masked group. A °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° sickly strong perfume stung my nose. A staff member wearing a fox mask stood by them. Teddy whispered to the fox-masked attendant, who nodded and stepped aside. Teddy announced,
“Ten minutes cleaning time.”
There was a disappointed sigh, but the masked guests stepped back without protest, remaining inside the restroom to chat on the sofas. I didn’t dare eavesdrop—frozen with fear, I watched Teddy. He stepped aside so I could see inside. With trembling legs, I forced myself into the stall area.
I finally understood the overpowering stench: beneath the perfume was the foul odor of urine. Christopher lay bound to the toilet in a pitiful state, his body limp like a corpse. Staggering, I gripped the wall to stay upright. The perfume made my head spin; each breath drove the scent deeper into my lungs.
I could still recall Christopher’s strong, proud bearing—his ever-arrogant expression, the way he looked down on people with a mocking smirk. This battered figure in filth, with a stained face, matted hair, needle marks on his arms, and bruised, naked body was unrecognizable.
With shaking hands, I gently stroked Christopher’s cheek—it was ice cold. I touched his nose; there was a faint breath, but my relief turned to despair. I could not leave him here.
I reached for the rope binding his limbs—when Teddy’s harsh shout broke the moment.
“What are you doing, you stupid bastard!”
Startled, I turned to him. Teddy gestured toward a CCTV camera in the corner. My boiling thoughts went cold. I nodded subtly. Teddy kicked me toward the exit and hissed,
“Get the cleaning supplies. Hurry up, idiot.”
“I… right, sorry.”
I awkwardly apologized and got to my feet. Teddy whispered, just audible, “Under the sink.”
As I stepped out of the stall, the cloying perfume vanished like waking from a nightmare. I never could have imagined Christopher treated this way in the Club. It felt like escaping a horror dream. I moved almost unconsciously—if we screwed this up, Teddy would suffer the same fate. I steadied myself; one mistake could ruin everything.
Past the partition, the masked guests lounged on sofas, laughing and chatting. They ignored me completely. I opened the drawer under the sink and grabbed cleaning tools; they still didn’t notice me. Thank goodness they treated me as invisible. When I straightened with broom and mop in hand, I sensed someone staring.
A man sat cross-legged on a sofa, watching me intently. My skin crawled. Pretending not to notice, I turned and glimpsed him in the mirror—his white mask fixed on me, head tilted. No one else stared, only him. A dreadful premonition struck: was he someone from the last Club? But I wore a mask—he couldn’t recognize me. Yet my heart thundered.
I calmly passed the partition and exhaled. Taking a step toward Teddy and Christopher, I heard footsteps. Ignoring them, I moved to hand Teddy the mop. The footsteps came closer. Without looking, I stepped into a stall alcove. I gave Teddy the mop—and there he was: a white-masked figure inches away, tilting his head at me again.
I held my breath, staring at him through the mask. Teddy beside me froze, eyes wide. In that instant, a thousand thoughts raced: I could knock him out and flee with Christopher—but the white mask’s finger pressed teasingly beneath my chin, lifting it ever so slightly.