This is not the first time he's found himself in a richly kept home, with no memory of his arrival. This is better than the last, though; quiet, comforting, still and empty. It's some sort of foyer, letting out into the expansive gardens beyond. He peers out the windows at greenery, wondering if he is truly alone here, or if there are people to be found - perhaps people he's met in Manhattan? That seems to be the pattern he's experienced so far.
Just near him is an open door, looking out on a decadent sight indeed - a clear blue pool, broad and sparkling in the sun.
This certainly isn't the time for a swim. It's pleasant enough right where he is anyway, he doesn't feel particularly inclined to leave. But at the same time, something draws him out. The pool so reminds him of Max. Or rather the last time he saw Max.
He steps closer, passing through the open doorway.
Instantly everything changes. He stops short, feeling a sickening lurch in his stomach. The water is gone now, drained dry, the pool nothing but a gaping cement hole sent into a crumbling brick patio. Ivy creeping and dying over everything. Gus inches forward, hesitant and nervous, for a closer look. Everything's as it was, but... ruined. He turns back to see if the house's interior has changed as well, and sees instead a bolted, barred door. Gus approaches it quickly, giving the handle a firm shake, but it's locked and perhaps rusted shut.
He drops his hand, wipes it on his trousers. Stay calm. There has to be an explanation.
He turns back to the pool, still finding himself compelled to go near it, even with it in this state. He crouches down at its rim, studying the intricate latticework of cracks and weeds in its floor. After a moment he lowers himself into it, standing at its deepest point, gazing up at the walls, trying to imagine himself in the water, lingering far beneath the surface.
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Just near him is an open door, looking out on a decadent sight indeed - a clear blue pool, broad and sparkling in the sun.
This certainly isn't the time for a swim. It's pleasant enough right where he is anyway, he doesn't feel particularly inclined to leave. But at the same time, something draws him out. The pool so reminds him of Max. Or rather the last time he saw Max.
He steps closer, passing through the open doorway.
Instantly everything changes. He stops short, feeling a sickening lurch in his stomach. The water is gone now, drained dry, the pool nothing but a gaping cement hole sent into a crumbling brick patio. Ivy creeping and dying over everything. Gus inches forward, hesitant and nervous, for a closer look. Everything's as it was, but... ruined. He turns back to see if the house's interior has changed as well, and sees instead a bolted, barred door. Gus approaches it quickly, giving the handle a firm shake, but it's locked and perhaps rusted shut.
He drops his hand, wipes it on his trousers. Stay calm. There has to be an explanation.
He turns back to the pool, still finding himself compelled to go near it, even with it in this state. He crouches down at its rim, studying the intricate latticework of cracks and weeds in its floor. After a moment he lowers himself into it, standing at its deepest point, gazing up at the walls, trying to imagine himself in the water, lingering far beneath the surface.