Beastly's Arc

Chapter 4 of 7

The committee arrives on a Thursday morning, three days before the review period was supposed to end. Beastly sees them through the window — two officials in dark coats, one carrying a leather case. They do not knock. They walk straight to the glass and begin prying the award from its mount. Beastly pushes through the door and steps outside. One official holds a crowbar. The other steadies the frame. The metal trophy twists against the bracket, screeching as the screws give way. Beastly says nothing. He stands three feet from them and watches. The official with the crowbar glances at him once, then returns to the work. When the award comes free, they place it in the case and snap the latches shut. One of them hands Beastly an envelope with a broken wax seal. Inside is a single sheet of paper that says the award has been placed under official custody pending final review. They walk back to their vehicle without waiting for a response. Beastly goes back inside. The shelf where the award sat is covered in dust except for one clean rectangle. He runs his finger along the edge of it. The shape is precise. Exact. He turns and looks at the mirrors lining the studio walls. His reflection stares back from a dozen angles. The room is still empty. The floor is still unmarked except for his own footprints. But the window is different now. It no longer holds proof. It holds a space where proof used to be. He takes the envelope and pins it to the window frame with a single tack. The paper hangs there, visible from the street. Anyone walking past can see it now — the empty shelf, the official notice, the clean rectangle where legitimacy was removed by force. Beastly steps back to the center of the floor. He begins the warm-up sequence, first position through fifth. His ears catch the sound of footsteps outside. Someone stops. He does not look up. He moves into the opening phrase of the routine. The mirrors show him everything he needs to see. The window shows the town everything they tried not to.