Re: [At the Carnival]
[He didn't seem disappointed when Jude arrived without the splendor of candied apples or stolen goods. Disappointed wasn't the right word, because it was really what Oliver had expected Jude of the responsible mind to do. He might have been pleasantly surprised, but his brother acted with the kind of foresight and preservation that had kept them afloat and out of iron bracelets for this long. Oliver certainly could have been petty despite that, but adoration was stronger.
He rested his temple briefly on brother's shoulder while fire and music dazzled the crowd around them. Oliver, having already gotten a private session of Misha's music, wasn't dazzled in the sense of first-time wow, but he could appreciate the art of show for the added theatrics. He liked the color palette.
For the first time in months, red didn't remind him of something terrible.]
A musician. [He told Jude, not with a sense of correction, but simply distinction. Oliver was an artist, but he couldn't do what Misha could do.
Oliver, who was sat at in the equivalent of nosebleed seats for the Big Top, even if the rows of seating weren't so vast as that, was certain that he must be invisible to anyone who was performing in the center swarm of lights and fire and so many faces.]
I should go find him… [But it was more of a question as Oliver stood from his seat and gazed down the aisle of stairs that might lead him from the tent and back into the wild of Carnival.]