The Finger Ring

Chapter 22

Before long, he died in a hospital in Yarmouth holding Dygta's hand, looking at his daughter and smiling happily to leave her at the time. How Dygta roared to lose his father's death after his mother's death.

At that time Dygta was eighteen years old. He does not know anything other than playing the script of the drama on the stage. He continues to develop the talent he has to be more straightforward to play his role on stage. But over time, he felt he had many contracts and did work based on staging, not comparable to what he produced. The wages given at the time were very much different from what he had imagined. He never achieved the success and fame he hoped for.

Dygta knows now thanks to the script he read in the cottage Constan. His memory returned miraculously. He remembered the demands he had made in the past. He tried to get out of his true identity because he wanted to forget such a great bitterness in him. At that time he was staging himself on a stage that was quite large, and escaped from there using a bedroom sandal which is a staging attribute. Her soft lips felt an immeasurable pain due to her co-star who was infatuated with her, entering the dressing room forcefully and unresponsibly to kiss her lips, completed nafs*b*Rahi was the man. Jorge Downlines! It was very rude of him to Dygta.

He once did that scene on stage while the staging was taking place, and it was just to complete the whole romantic scene. Downlines also usually come to invite dinner together or just discuss about the script that will be brought by them. But just then she came in haste, entered the dressing room violently, grabbed Dygta's body and clenched herself tightly. Even his thick lips are direct **********. There was nothing Dygta could do at that time. He didn't dodge when the Downline came.

A few minutes later, he recalled what his father had taught him to defend himself during an emergency. He did not hesitate to lift one foot up. And...

"Aww..."

The downline fell down in pain, then rolled around on the cold floor. Dygta thoughtlessly left the dressing room and went as far away as possible.

Dygta looked towards Constan who was also staring at him.

"I remember who I am. I remember my true self. I'm Blair Fulton, I ran away from my group performing in Torquay. I ran away somewhere. Until a bus passed through the city, I stopped and boarded it. I should have left that staging group a long time ago. Since my father died. But I was too in love with the stage and the performance. I postponed. And at that moment, I decided to run away. And at that time, I only had the money to ride the bus. I don't know where the bus will take me. When the bus ticket check ended, I lost my ticket and I was dismissed, and I got off in Brinsham. I just follow my instincts to walk, and walk." Dygta explained.

Dygta rubbed his slightly messy hair with his finger. His face paled with eyes that looked very grim. Constan held his arm and approached towards him.

"I'm not authorized to comment on you escaping that. Sorry about the incident."

"You don't trust me?" asked Dygta in a soft tone.

As soon as his listener caught the question, he immediately burst out laughing ridiculously.

"Are you telling me to trust every story of a man who lost his memory and trust you who disappeared from his job?" constan. "Without anyone I can ask the truth?"

Dygta just stared intensely at Constan. It's not wrong, if Constan doesn't believe it.

"What about your director?" Of course he will seek you out as a member. Because he plucks just anyone, then trains them voluntarily, and makes him someone who can play a role in an Opera play. And it's not easy to train to succeed, it takes weeks, even months."

"You're wrong! He would never look for me. And we quarreled" Dygta rubbed her wet hair and eyes and glanced at Constan at a glance. "I think he told my group there, saying that I got out of their group. I'm sure they believe that. Because they know I'm not happy working with the Downline."

"I never went to the inn they rented. I hired myself for myself, because I didn't want to get close to the Downline" he said in a soft but still-sounding voice in Constan's ear.

"I rented at one inn that I thought, the owner was doing illegal activities in his house. Yeah, that night, I overheard a truck stop right there. Under such circumstances, the owner does not wish to report the loss of himself, as the owner may have been afraid of the police raids. Therefore, they don't panic when I don't go home or even I'm missing" he explained.

"Do you expect me to believe that you're alone living in a place like that?" constan asked with a look of disbelief.

Dygta immediately took a slow breath and exhaled it out. His view is a little grim.

"You know, after my father died, I was always alone. I trust the innkeeper more than my own director. After all, when you have plunged into a life full of theatrics, you must have an attitude that is always vigilant. My father always reminded me of that, even though I was often not vigilant. Until my father died."

There was not a word coming out of each of their mouths. Silent.

"It looks like your story is believable" Constan said moments later.

"credible? Is not the truth always reliable?" dygta said cynically.

Dygta threw his gaze towards the fire furnace. Warming himself up there. Still imagining the past events that he forgot for a moment. The atmosphere outside continued to be flushed with heavy rain. The rain was no colder than Constan's words, or the night was no more somber than Cosntan's view.

Constan was smiling like Adam Peters. He saw the trembling Dygta.

"Hey, stop that shaking body of yours! I'm not the director you work for. You don't have to be afraid I'm gonna eat your lips rough. Nothing will happen with what I have done below" Constan said firmly.

"Wear this shirt, to warm your body. You won't be able to go home to Peters' house if you only wear one layer of clothes," he said.

At once Dygta. thought, "Go home to Peters' house? But that house is not my home. I don't have a home in this world!"

...****************...

tbc

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