Marco's Heart

You find yourself in a bright white, circular room. It's nearly empty; too bare, almost clinically so. But the bareness of it means that what is visible here stands out:
A podium in the center, where a familiar figure sits, head buried in his hands. Three paths running from the podium to three different spots near the edges of the room - not corners; circles don't have corners - where three doors leading seemingly nowhere stand with no regard for their complete lack of structural support.
It doesn't take you long to figure out where you are, does it? You only have to decide where to start.

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Marco's eyes go wide, barely visible in their hiding spot behind his legs. He sounds truly afraid.
"Why are you... How many people are going to come here? How many people are going to see?"
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I can however just choose to stick around here, if you prefer.
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A pause. His head doesn't tilt so much as it tips heavily to one side.
"I can't stop you. I shouldn't stop you."
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Either way, his attention doesn't seem to be fully on Nikolai.
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A preference?
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He curls in on himself harder. It seems he's refusing to choose.
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Well.
[He's going to take a quick look at all three doors, are there any differences between them?]
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"Oh, this one... I wonder if any of it will surprise him."
"You don't have to sneak, son. We can show you."