Beyond the Skyline

by Lise Gold

  “Would you like some Champagne too, ladies? It’s included in our Friday breakfast.” Sophie and Mel exchanged glances and smiled up at him.

  “Yes, please. That would be fabulous,” Sophie grinned and pointed at Mel’s plate. “What kind of wonderful concoction of flavors are you having today?” Mel chuckled, presenting back the food in front of her.

  “Let’s see… I’ve got some sushi, blueberry pancakes, Greek yogurt with honey and… this… It kind of looks like custard but it’s got a different structure.” Sophie leaned over to sniff the tiny bowl.

  “Mmmm nice. It’s almond soup. Good choice.” She chuckled. It’s actually a dessert but since you’re planning on having sushi at nine in the morning, you might as well.”

  Mel adjusted her Cap to protect her eyes from the sun, and Sophie put on a pair of shades as they followed the path along the Victoria waterfront. The gardens along the way were in full bloom, and the benches facing the harbor were all occupied, providing a peaceful retreat for the road workers, families and shop assistants who were having their breakfast in the shade underneath the banyan trees. It was peaceful at first, but the path widened as they reached the Avenue of Stars and suddenly they found themselves in the middle of a crowd. Hundreds of tourists were fighting over a picture with the bronze statue of Bruce Lee or one of the movie star hand prints in the marble tiles on the pavement. Sophie took Mel’s hand so they wouldn’t lose each other.

  “This is the Hong Kong version of the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Four hundred and forty meters of cinematic history. It’s popular with Asian tourists, and at night, this is the perfect spot to watch the Symphony of Lights. That’s the light show on Hong Kong Island,” she explained. “They play music from the speakers here to accompany the laser display, and it’s really iconic to Hong Kong.” Mel sighed.

  “We need some more time here. I don’t know if it’s the two glasses of Champagne I had with breakfast, but Hong Kong seems like a happy place in daylight.” She waved at a little boy who was with a group of Taiwanese tourists, carrying matching parasols. They all waved back. “Maybe we should get one of those if we’ll be walking around in the sun all day? We could share?” She batted her eyelashes and Sophie couldn’t help but smile. Mel’s eyelashes were long and dark, and she knew exactly how to put them to use.

  They crossed a square full of busking musicians and dancing seniors before jumping onto an old, rusty looking ferry.

  “I’m glad we can see the land or I’d be worried to board this,” Mel said, leaning over the balustrade. The engine roared, and the water splashed up high against the hull when the ferry took off. As they came closer to the other side, the Victoria Peak mountain came into clear sight, rising above the skyscrapers and the observation wheel. The cityscape against the green background was a stark contrast that still fascinated Sophie, even after numerous visits.

  “How on earth did they build this?” Mel asked as they crossed the road into town. “It’s so steep. And how do people get home from work at night?”

  “Well, there’s the tube, the tram, and there are taxis all over the island. But today we are taking the escalators.” She made a theatrical gesture for Mel to go first and laughed at her stunned face when they turned the corner. “Welcome to the largest outdoor escalator system in the world. Our first stop is five escalators away, but if you see anything you like on the way, we can jump off.”

  “Are you serious, Sophie? This is amazing.” Mel’s eyes widened at the maze of narrow streets they passed on their way up. First, there were colorful markets and tea shops. Then came small restaurants, independent hipster-esque coffee shops, Japanese hairdressers and Korean beauty salons, all built up against each other at different heights like stacked up Lego pieces. In between were private homes with swanky roof terraces and balconies, showing off their premium space. They got off on Hollywood Road, where antique shops and art galleries dominated the street, only broken up by the odd winebar or convenience store. Sophie took Mel’s hand again when they crossed the road. By now, it didn’t seem awkward anymore. They had become so intimate over the past week that she simply couldn’t do without the physical closeness. Each time they touched, an electric bolt shot through her arm, down into her core, spreading an array of joy and excitement. When she wanted to let go, Mel tightened her grip.

  “Don’t,” she said. “I like holding your hand.”

  18

  “Let’s get some lunch, shall we?” Sophie stopped to catch her breath and searched for the water bottle in her bag. “It’s been a long morning, and I’m starting to feel hungry. How about you?”

  Mel nodded. “I could eat now.” She laughed and wiggled her thumb. “Plus my hand needs some rest. I’ve taken so many pictures that it’s starting to ache. That was great by the way. I had no idea the stores here were so inspiring.” She held up her arm, supporting five shopping bags, and chuckled.

  The alleyways turned narrower as they walked further into the maze of stalls and restaurants, squashed in between the skyscrapers. They tried to avoid the steam blowing from the wok-stations on either side, filling the air with the scent of garlic, soy, and ginger. Mel gazed at the ladders of neon-lit signs that bathed the buildings in yellow and orange.

  “It’s so alien,” she said. “Nothing is like how I thought it would be. It’s like being in a theme park without the rides, but at the same time, it’s like going back in time. When I look around me, it feels like a local market fifty years ago, but when I look up, there’s futuristic architecture reaching into the clouds.” Sophie nodded.

  “I know. It's fascinating, isn't it?” She pointed at a shabby looking food court in the middle of a mews and led them to the only available table next to a food truck, where two senior chefs were cooking dishes for the crowd from only two large woks.

  “Don’t worry,” Sophie reassured her. “You won’t get sick, I never have. It’s all fresh, and it’s cooked so hot, it will kill any bacteria that could possibly harm you.” They ordered beers, and Sophie asked for the chef’s recommendations. The waiter looked puzzled and tried to convince them to go for some simple rice dishes.

  “Please,” Sophie said. “Just get us whatever is good today.” Mel laughed.

  “Feeling brave, are you? I thought that was my thing when it came to food.” They watched the chef throw ingredients into the hot pan. He shook it around before adding sauce and spices to finish off the dishes in under a minute. Within no time, they had a table full of food. Oyster omelet, chicken livers with garlic, steamed greens and fish in black bean sauce, accompanied by white rice and a bowl of chili oil. Mel stared in confusion at the mouthwatering display that seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere.

  “Wow. I don’t think we need to eat tonight.” She laughed. “Oh Sophie, I’m having such a good time. I’m going to miss you.” Her eyes met Sophie’s, and she held her gaze, her face more serious now. Sophie swallowed hard but didn’t shy away. Their exchange of glances was so much more than friendship, and Sophie found her eyes wandering down to Mel’s mouth once again. She forced herself to concentrate on the food in front of her.

  “I’m going to miss you too,” she said quietly. “It’s different with you. Different from spending time with other people.” Mel smiled and covered Sophie’s hand with her own.

  “I know.”

  19

  The hotel bar was busy on Friday night. Men and women in work attire were gathered around the bar, celebrating the end of the week or perhaps the end of a successful trip. Others were already dressed up, ready for a long night out in one of Hong Kong’s swanky nightclubs. Sophie and Mel joined the crowd, determined to get some liquid courage in their system before heading out to Central to meet Aldo and his friend Rick.

  “Miss Scott?” Sophie turned around to find the concierge with an envelope.

  “Yes, that’s me.” She smiled at him.

  “I have a message from your mother. We tried to get hold of you this morning and left a note in your room, but
you must have missed it.” Sophie took the envelope and opened it.

  “Thank you.” She frowned as she read the fax.

  Sophie darling, it seems impossible to get hold of you, but the kind man at reception ensured me this fax would reach you in time for your date with Aldo.

  I have transferred three hundred pounds to your account. Please spend it on a decent dress for tonight and don’t forget your manners. Your mother.

  Sophie burst out into laughter and read it again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She handed Mel the fax.

  “Wow.” Mel giggled. “She really is serious about this matchmaking, isn’t she?”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “My mother never gives up. It’s insulting, and it even feels a bit dirty.” She tore the fax in half. “I’m transferring that money right back.”

  “So what are you wearing?” Mel asked. Sophie shot her a skeptical look.

  “What do you mean? I’ll just wear this. I don’t need to impress anyone.” She knew that wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to impress Mel, but she didn’t think Mel was the type who got turned on by evening gowns. She hadn’t even brought one with her. All she had in her suitcase was a body hugging black satin cocktail number with a low-cut cleavage. She didn’t love wearing it but it looked good on her, and it was her ‘anytime, anywhere dress’.

  “I have a black dress with me. I’ll wear that one,” she said, after seeing Mel’s disappointed look.

  “Great!” Mel yelled, clapping her hands. I brought a little something along too. Do you want to get dressed together? We can take this to your room?” She pointed at the bottle in the ice cooler between them.

  “I mean, we could go to mine, but it’s a mess. Seriously, you have no idea how messy my room is.”

  “Mine too.” Sophie laughed. Her heart was jumping at the prospect of having Mel in her room. “But the cleaner will have been in by now so it shouldn’t be too bad. I’m in room number fourteen thirty-four.” She took the bucket and their glasses and gestured at the waiter to put their drinks on her room tab. Mel jumped off the bar stool.

  “I’m excited. It feels like a girls’ night out, and I haven’t had one of those in a while. I’ll be up in no time.”

  Sophie rushed to her room to inspect the damage. She cleared away her dirty laundry and checked the bathroom for anything embarrassing, but it was spotless. She ran over to the mirror in a nervous frenzy and inspected herself, then suddenly remembered that Mel had seen her only a couple of minutes ago. She shook her head, confused by her irrational behavior and tried to calm her nerves.

  A couple of minutes later, she opened the door to Mel, who immediately walked into the room and dumped her bag on the bed.

  “Do you mind if I have a quick shower here?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Sophie gestured to the bathroom. “Help yourself to towels; I’ll go in after you.” She liked the idea of having Mel naked under her steaming hot shower, using her soap and her towels. She felt a flash of heat between her legs when she heard the water running and imagined Mel stripping off. This is crazy. Why is everything about this girl such a turn-on? She tried to stop her thoughts from going in the wrong direction but ever since their tube ride together that had proven close to impossible. She poured herself more wine and took a large gulp. Then she got the hotel steamer out and concentrated on her creased dress. After what seemed to take an eternity, Mel came out of the shower with a large fluffy towel wrapped around her.

  “Nice dress,” she said, pointing at the dress in Sophie’s hands. “I bet it looks great on you.” Sophie stared at her for just a little bit too long, taking in her bare arms and legs and the cleavage that was the result of the tight towel around her chest. Mel noticed and gave her a curious look. A tiny smile formed around her mouth.

  “Are you okay, Sophie?” she asked.

  “Eh…Yeah, I’m good,” Sophie stammered. “I’m just going to have a quick shower too. Wine’s over there. I poured you some more.” She pointed at Mel’s glass on the nightstand. Sophie tried to wash away her thoughts under the shower, but now all she could think of was Mel getting dressed in her bedroom. It was incredible that something as simple as two women getting dressed to go out together could be so arousing. It almost felt like some erotic ritual. The shower, the pampering, the dresses, the wine and the compliments …

  Mel was dressed when she returned to the bedroom, and she looked stunning. The white backless dress complemented her skin tone and showed off her amazing figure. It was decent enough to wear to a smart dinner, yet the open back gave it a seductive touch.

  “Wow,” was all Sophie could manage to say.

  “You like it?” Mel twirled around a couple of times. It made her hair bounce up and down around her shoulders. “I bought it on sale before I came here. I didn’t even have time to try it on. I’m so happy that it fits.” She handed Sophie her dress. “Here, I finished the steaming for you. Put it on.”

  “You look hot,” Mel said, when they inspected themselves in the mirror. “I like the cleavage.” Sophie blushed.

  “Thank you. So do you.” They were both feeling slightly tipsy from the wine and Sophie had started to relax a little bit.

  “Do you want me to put some makeup on you?” Mel asked. “Not that you need it,” she added. “I just enjoy doing it.” Sophie rarely wore makeup, but she smiled and nodded anyway. Suddenly, makeup seemed like the best idea in the world, if only for the prospect of Mel touching her face.

  “I won’t put too much on. Just a little bit to emphasize your amazing features.” She leaned over Sophie and started working on her eyebrows. Her face was close, and Sophie could feel her breath on her skin. She felt a jolt of arousal and tried to calm herself down so Mel wouldn’t notice her erratic breathing.

  “So do you look like your mom?” Mel asked. Her lips looked moist and inviting as she spoke, her voice husky and sweet, almost whispering. “I bet your mom is stunning, like you.” She studied Sophie’s face as if she was looking at a work of art. She tilted her head and squinted, taking a step back. Sophie blushed and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She wasn’t used to someone looking at her with such intensity.

  “Yeah. I bet you do,” Mel continued. “The pale skin, the prominent cheekbones, the dark blue eyes with long lashes and the slender figure… You must get that from someone. Sophie looked down, shying away from Mel’s gaze.

  “I have my mother’s genes. She used to be a model, a long, long time ago. She’s still obsessed with her looks to the point where it gets alarmingly out of hand sometimes.” Mel nodded.

  “I can understand that. It must be hard to grow older when you used to make a living from modeling. Can I see a picture of your mom?” Sophie laughed.

  “Are you sure?” She scrolled through her phone, searching for a recent photo. “Here. This was Christmas last year. She zoomed in on the photo and pointed at her mother in front of the family in a long, black evening gown, awkwardly smiling at the camera with a cocktail in her raised hand.” Mel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Wow, she looks like she’s had quite a bit of work done… am I right?” Sophie nodded.

  “I guess quite a bit would be an understatement.” Mel applied some cream underneath Sophie’s eyes, and Sophie shivered at the light touch of Mel’s fingers on her skin.

  “Tell me about her,” Mel said, searching for something in her toiletry bag. Sophie sighed, trying to think of ways to describe her mother without putting her down.

  “My mother is quite uptight. I guess you could call her a Stepford wife. She wasn’t always like this, but the past couple of years she’s been obsessed with being perfect in every single way. It’s like she’s lost all her natural spontaneity. Until about eight years ago, we were often mistaken for sisters. My mother has always looked naturally younger than her age, but when she turned forty, she finally managed to persuade my father, who’s a plastic surgeon, to do some work on her.

  “Your dad is a plastic surgeon? Wow, I’v
e never met one of those. Or people who’ve had plastic surgery. It’s fascinating, but it’s also quite alien to me. Was it weird for you, your dad operating on your mom?” Sophie laughed and shrugged.

  “I don’t know. It was certainly weird in the beginning. My mother has never been a stranger to Botox, but at least it hadn’t done her face any harm. Her best friend Deborah organizes these Botox parties at her house in Wimbledon every three months, and my mother has always been one of her most loyal attendants. But in the end, Botox couldn’t preserve her forever, and on the day of her fortieth birthday, she had a minor meltdown. I remember my parents arguing when I came home to have dinner with them. My mother was yelling hysterically, accusing my father of neglecting her feelings. He’s given hundreds of women facelifts you see, but he always refused to touch my mother’s face because it was sacred to him and he thought she was beautiful the way she was. But my mother was adamant she would get her way.” Sophie put on a screechy voice, mimicking her mother.

  “What is wrong with you, David? You know I’ve been feeling insecure lately. I need this. Do you not understand that? Mark gave Deborah fillers for her fortieth. It’s not a big deal. Do you not care about how I feel at all? How am I supposed to go through life looking like this? I swear David, if you don’t do it, I’ll go somewhere else.”

  Mel giggled. “So he gave in?”