Alex threw himself onto the bed and gazed at the ceiling. Everything Gideon said made sense. Ithadbeen easier to make sarcastic comments and generally be a pain in the arse than to knuckle down. He thought of Four and how hard he’d worked; he’d accepted a situation he couldn’t change and done his best to work within the framework of his reality. Alex, raised to very different expectations of what his life would be, had never even tried to come to terms with his new reality. Mick would no doubt say it was because he had too high an opinion of himself, and there was a certain truth to that. He didn’t want to be an indie. He viewed himself as better than that. Yet hewasan indie – when was he going to accept that?
“You’re no better than us, Alex,”he could hear Solange say, and she’d be right. She, Ted, and Four had shown far more character than him, because they’d started with far fewer advantages. Was he too spoilt and arrogant to truly accept the same fate they’d had to embrace?
Alex glanced at himself in the mirror.
Who are you really?
It was time to find out.
He set his alarm clock for 5.20 the next morning. He forced himself out of bed the minute it sounded and went to the gym, to find E waiting for him.
“Can we talk about my fitness – where I am, and where I could be if I worked harder at it?” he asked.
She looked delighted, and they spent the session discussing ways for him to improve. She knew her stuff, and he took copious notes so he could learn as much from her as possible. At some point, Tyler might stop providing him with a trainer. He needed to absorb as much as possible while he still had access to one.
He took a quick shower, and then jogged along to the dining room for breakfast. D, as shy and sweet as ever, persisted in giving him one of those little extra treats – this time, a small chocolate bunny.
“For Easter,” she whispered.
“That’s very kind, but I can’t accept gifts from you anymore, D. They might get you into trouble. Please don’t offer them again,” he said firmly.
Her face fell, and he longed to take back the words, but he steeled himself. Rejecting friendship was always going to be one of the hardest parts of his mission; he might as well practise as much as he could before he was returned to Tyler.
A one-to-one with B followed, where he asked her to assess his skills so far and tell him what he needed to do to become a truly polished product of Belvedere. He was somewhat crestfallen to find there were still many areas where he was lacking, but again, he took copious notes and resolved to work on them.
Then it was time to meet with C. His office was a quiet room on the ground floor. The walls were white but there were also two pale green armchairs facing each other and a soothing green carpet. C’s manner was still mild and good-natured, but his pale blue eyes were sharp and fiercely intelligent behind the spectacles. Alex could see he was a very clever man.
“Let me start. I think the area you’ll struggle with most is holding firm to your resolve when you’re under pressure,” C said, direct and to the point. “I’ll teach you mental techniques for that. The cornerstones are good food, daily exercise, and restful sleep. I know these will not always be in your control, but when they are, you must choose them.”
“I like the idea that I can choose a good night’s sleep.” Alex rolled his eyes. “Tell that to my brain when it’s chuntering away at three a.m.”
“This is about self-discipline. You must choose not to ‘chunter’, as you call it – that’s a self-indulgence you can’t afford. You will choose rest instead. Nobody said it was easy,” C added with a rueful grin, seeing the expression on Alex’s face. “Exercise will help with sleep – if you have a chance to do it, take it. Now, you don’t have to use either yoga or the anchoring song Gideon taught you – they’re just suggestions on his part. The choice is yours, so give it some thought.”
“After months of having no choices, it seems I now have too many,” Alex commented wryly. “It’s exhausting.”
“Yes, the learned helplessness you’ve exhibited was infuriating at times, but I told Gideon I detected real strength of character beneath the petulance, and I was right.”
“Thank you. I think,” Alex muttered.
“Let’s look at the song,” C requested. “Explain to me how it helps you,.”
“I’m not sure. I just like it.” Alex shrugged.
C gave him a sharp look. “You’ll need to work harder than that, Alex, if I’m to help you. I want you to know yourself inside out. To identify your triggers and learn how to deal with them. Let’s go through it, so you understand how it works and why. Here are the lyrics.” He pinged them up into the air.
Alex wasn’t used to this kind of work. He found it far harder than his sessions with B or E. He felt self-conscious offering up his innermost thoughts and feelings for analysis.
“I suppose… I see it as my tribute to Solange,” he began. “Like, I’m dedicating myself to her.”
“That’s not necessarily helpful. The song is supposed to calm you, not make you remember her death,” C observed.
“It doesn’t. I’m not religious, but it makes me feel as if I’ve dedicated my life to a higher power. It reminds me that I’m not important in the grand scheme of things, that I’m an instrument to do this work,” he said slowly.
“I see. And?”
“Well… I can’t want anything to be about me now, can I?” He took a deep breath as he tried to make peace with that idea. “It has to all be about her. I can’t seek love, or consolation, or understanding. I must ground myself in the sense of peace that comes from knowing I’m not important, the mission is.”
“Very well. That’s a good start.” C nodded. “I want you to take the lyrics away and work on them. We need this song to really help you. You must know the words backwards and be able to recite them in your head during moments of stress. We need that Pavlovian response. No matter how stressful the situation, this song anchors you, brings you back to the moment, and reminds you of why you’re doing this.”
