A Field of Questions

"Either way, Taylor wishes for your presence. It might be important with you guys, unless you guys saw the news," he said.

"He saw the news too?"

"The news is always on full blast," he said. "You can't miss it." We all nodded slowly, as embarrassment creeped up our souls like snakes. "Come, quickly," he said hastily, as if he had a tennis game to get to.

We followed him outside of the room, walking into the hall that still shined as bright as ever like a star—based on its beauty. We entered the elevator, as we lowered to the third floor.

We got out, seeing the neon-filled area again, before entering the room with five elevators that was really just a game of decoys. We went to the one facing the hard right, which was in the interrogation room.

Taylor was sitting there, with two men in brown suits behind him, with a Macbook—I believe—in the middle. He looked a bit stressed, or mad, or both. His emotions were as confusing as a rubik's cube.