by Auden Dar
My master bathroom is dimly lit. The scent of almond oil fills the air, and the sound of Paloma Faith’s “Only Love Can Hurt Like This” is in the background. How befitting. If only I had refused Julian, it would have saved me from this aching pain. If only I had the control to stop. If only I had the courage to face the inevitable. I understood he was a player. Just a few weeks ago, I had heard him fucking another woman.
What was I thinking?
Julian only promised one night with me. Why, then, why was I expecting to be different from his other women?
Was it all an imaginary connection? Somehow, my heart connected with his, and a need to believe that leaving Andrew was worth it. And now, reality sets in. I left my fiancé, even though he neglected me for years, to pursue a man … a staggeringly handsome man who managed to unravel me, physically and emotionally.
You’re a fool, Lina.
I soak in the tub. Immersing my head, I’m in the same position for seconds. I finally lift my head out of the warm water, gasping for air. Right beside the large tub, Roger sits on a stool, his large frame gently hovering over mine. His lavender shirtsleeves are rolled up. Reaching for my favorite shampoo on the corner shelf, he then carefully washes my hair. “There, there, sweetheart. You’ll be fine. You’re stronger than you think.” After rinsing my hair, he takes the loofah sponge and begins to wash my body. His tenderness touches me.
“Roger, you’re my savior.” My voice is barely a whisper.
After helping me bathe, he cups my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Lina, we’re each other’s saviors.” He kisses my forehead before helping me out of the tub. Wrapping me in my favorite white robe, he gently rubs my arms. “Look at me, sweetheart.” I peer up at his big blue eyes shining with brotherly love. “I know your heart is breaking right now, Lina. But you needed this to happen.”
I stare at him confused, wordless.
Roger continues as he embraces me. “You needed to feel alive. You needed to feel something extraordinary, even if only for a night.”
“But, Roger.”
“Shhh. I know that head of yours. Don’t even compare your night with Julian with what you had with Andrew. If it’s not meant to be, you’ll move on. Look, you were with Andrew for years, and you were able to be with another man. I’m not suggesting turn into a slut. You’ll be okay. You’re beautiful, you’re kind, you’re smart, you’re talented, and there will be other lovers. You just need to be open.”
Open? I was certainly open to Julian last night.
Take a deep breath, Lina. You’re going to move on. You’re going to move on from Julian. And you’ve already moved on from Andrew.
You’re beginning a new chapter in your life, I remind myself.
We make our way to my bedroom where I sit on the bed, resting my head against the gray cushioned headboard. My attentive friend retrieves my white cotton underwear set, along with black leggings and a heather gray hoodie from my dresser. Handing them over, he says, “I’ll let you get dressed. Let me know if you need anything. I love you, sweetheart.”
After taking forever to get ready to face the day, I reach for my phone, silently praying that Julian has left me a message−just something from him− as some sort of acknowledgment. However, the message staring me in the face is from his father. I immediately call Marcel and leave him a voicemail message. A tinge of sadness sweeps over me when the other messages are from Roger, Patti, Cosima and my nana. I tell myself that I may never hear from him again. It’s something I need my heart to prepare for. He left me years ago without a word and only returned recently. How could losing Julian hurt so much when he was never mine in the first place?
It’s my fault to have foolishly thought that one night was all I wanted.
It was a wonderful experience, I remind myself. And although my heart aches, I had an amazing birthday with Julian. He made me realize I could actually celebrate my most dreaded day of the year. The museum. Masa. Making love. I remember it all. Passion was unattainable until last night. If I could have it with him, I silently pray I’ll have it again.
I will have it again.
One day, my heart will heal. I’ll be able to see Julian again−without pain, without regret, forgetting the way he left after I surrendered to him, and most of all, without my heart breaking.
Three
The next daywhen I wake up, my heart still refuses to let go. Bitterness wraps around it, almost choking me.
I probably sound like a basket case for being so devastated that a man left me after a one-night stand. What angers and embarrasses me the most is that Julian left his own home, so he didn’t have to face me. Couldn’t we have just had breakfast and awkwardly pretended we didn’t have sex? That’s what most of my friends admit to doing.
Why did he just leave me with a note? He left me alone in his apartment with Miss Pendleton. It would have been easier to just say, “Thank you, Lina. We had a great time. Just a reminder, it was just a one-night thing.”
After my bath yesterday, I spent the rest of the day in bed. And although I would have enjoyed teaching Samson a new song on the piano, I was grateful that he decided not to stop by. I needed that time to myself. Roger was attentive and checked in on me every hour on the hour like a nursemaid. Alex was kind enough to bring me dinner from the Cuban restaurant across the street, but I had no inclination to eat even some of my favorite dishes. Music played the entire time. And to add to my state of depression, I continued to play the most heart-wrenching songs ever written. I sang along to the love-drunk vocals of Steve McEwan until my tears prevented me from forming words. Unamerican’s “Is This The End” was on repeat for the past few hours. A frustrated Roger entered my room, turned off my sound system, and said, “This song is just too depressing. No more, Lina. Play something else, just not a song that includes a gun in its lyrics.”
And around three in the morning, my best friend walked into my room without knocking. Sitting beside me as he stroked my back, he said, “Sweetheart, you’re going to get up in a few hours. I refuse to let you wallow in misery. I know I’m the last person to give advice, but you’re strong. You’ve always been strong. You’re not only going to move on, you’re also going to be fierce.”
Roger stayed with me. Lying next to my petite frame with his large arms wrapped around my body, he stayed quiet while I continued to ponder his words. Damn it, I’m going to be fierce. My best friend didn’t leave my side until I fell asleep.
The next few days go by in a blur. I continue to work on the soundtrack for the new video game, The Enforcer. Roger and Alex remain at the loft with me. Their company helps me get through two heartbreaks: the break up with Andrew (which was for the best) and my passionate night with Julian (which made my body physically ache). I learned over the past few days that Roger and Alex had met at a dinner party in London. Alex had just opened a start-up in London’s Shoreditch that focuses on mobile applications. A few days after their first meeting, they ran into each other on their way to the SXSW conference. Once they landed in Austin, they found themselves holed up at the Driskill Hotel for several hours. I chuckle thinking about my friends and their hotel sexcapades.
It had been several years since I last saw Roger enamored with someone. Enamored but not in love. When it comes to relationships, Roger had avoided them in the past. He had always preferred the non-committal, friends with benefits type of dalliances. But as I watch the two of them during dinner, it’s obvious that this is more than a fleeting affair for my best friend. It’s the way Roger moves closer to Alex when in conversation. As if he doesn’t want to miss a word that slips from his lover’s mouth. It’s also the way he gently touches Alex’s hands when they are seated next to each other. Or maybe the way everything ceases for Roger when his boyfriend enters the room. And when Alex is not around, it is his name that continuously slips from Roger’s lips.
Roger Bartley, for the first time in his life, is in love.
Roger, Alex, and I are having a lovely meal at Baltha
zar. Earlier this morning, while I was still half asleep, Roger walked into my room beaming. It was obvious that he had just had mind-blowing sex. Usually when he has great sex, Roger Bartley becomes gluttonous and very, very generous. He insisted that we have a belated birthday celebration at one of my favorite restaurants before leaving with Alex. “I want to celebrate life and my best friend.” Things are moving so quickly for them that Roger is considering opening a London office.
My dream gig to score my favorite director’s new film, Disappear, has been given the green light, and the news doesn’t come at a better time. Due to the intense deadline, I start immediately. I usually work one project at a time, but since I’m almost done with the game, I accept the work with enthusiasm.
I originally nixed the idea of celebrating my birthday again. The last time I celebrated it, I was enthralled in mind-blowing sex, only to be abandoned the next morning. But as I gaze at Roger, I know it’s important to him that we celebrate it together. Although he had a large family before coming out as a gay man, Patti and I have become his only family. Flying back to the city to surprise me for my birthday, I feel the need to appease him. I suggest that we also celebrate his newfound love and the new score I’m working on.
While I enjoy my bouillabaisse, Roger and Alex share the cote de boeuf for two. It’s amazing what love can do to a person. Just a few weeks ago, I remember Roger confiding in me that he didn’t know if he would ever find true love. He didn’t think it was in him to love someone more than a friend. Of course I knew he was wrong. He is loving, kind, generous and at times, loyal to a fault. The two men sitting right across from me are a sight to behold as they cuddle like two teenagers in love for the first time. I could be jealous, but instead, I am just happy. We continue to drink the two bottles of Chateau Leoville Las Cases from 1970. I balked a few minutes ago at the name of the vintage wine. At $500 a bottle, Roger is definitely in a celebratory mood. As the night starts to wind down, we finish our dinner with cream puffs and warm vanilla bread pudding.
On our way back home, I can’t help but have a certain gorgeous man on my mind. And although I had been with Andrew for more than half of my life, it’s Julian that I think of. I tilt my head up at the midnight sky, somehow knowing we’re staring at the same star at this moment. Where is he? What is he doing? Is he also thinking of me?
I shake my head and need to remind myself that it was just an intense, amazing one-night stand I’ll always remember.
You’re going to be fierce.
It’s easier said than done. It doesn’t help that so many things remind me of Julian. Even walking by a dog park. The thought of Mugpie warms me. I miss that adorable bulldog. I miss his snorting. I miss petting his wrinkly body. I miss his crooked run. And I miss his dad.
Once we arrive at the loft, I thank Roger and Alex for a wonderful time, but it’s evident I’m still sad. Roger excuses himself from his boyfriend and walks me to my bedroom.
“Lina, sweetheart, I can stay if you’d like.”
“No, I’ll be fine. Please go to London and enjoy your time with Alex. I really like him. He makes you happy.”
Roger’s smile is tender as he gazes down at me. “I really like him, too. I think he may be the one.”
My eyes pop out. “Oh my God! Roger Bartley, you have it baaaaad.”
“I do. I just hope I don’t fuck it up.” His voice is softer and unsure.
Fear is in his eyes. Taking his large hand, I link it with mine. “Don’t think that way. Don’t be afraid to love. A few days ago, you told me to be open … so now it’s your turn. Be open to not just sex. Be open to love.” I kiss him on his left cheek. We are seated on my bed, just enjoying each other’s company. When my phone begins to play Jennifer Lopez’s “Ain’t Your Mama,” we both look at the caller ID and laugh at the same time. I hit speakerphone. “Hey, Patti! Roger is with me. Are you still holed up with Louie?” I ask, knowing full well she is still with her fiancé, whom I have yet to meet.
“Yes! Did I tell you we had sex on the plane?” my best gal pal asks in her thick Long Island accent before laughing.
Roger’s mouth hangs open.
I laugh along, trying to picture a short Adam Sandler look-alike standing next to Patti’s five-foot-nine frame. “Oh my God, yes.”
“Louie and I will be back in a few weeks. Are you guys going to be around?”
“I’m actually leaving tomorrow,” Roger interjects.
“But I’ll be here indefinitely,” I sigh.
“I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk since your birthday,” she says softly.
“It’s fine. Roger and his boyfriend have been keeping me company.”
“Whaaaat???? Roger, you … you actually have a boyfriend?” Patti’s voice is an octave higher.
Roger sucks in a quick breath. “Yes! And he’s fucking fabulous.”
“You mentioned meeting someone when we last spoke. I can’t believe you have a boyfriend. Now we need to make sure that our Lina has someone, and we’re not going to mention you know who.” How does she know? And then I peer at Roger as he mouths, “I’m sorry. I told her about Julian.”
She continues, “Oh, damn it! I have to go. Looks like one of my clients can’t let a day go by without getting into trouble. Can’t wait to see you guys. I’ll call when I have exact dates. Love you both.”
“Love you, crazy,” Roger and I scream in unison and laugh.
After ending the call, Roger studies my face before suggesting, “You know you can cut all this bullshit out by just calling him. Or why don’t you just go to London with me and Alex?”
“Yeah, but then what?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but at least you can find out what happened to him.” Roger takes my hand. “You can’t continue like this. It’s not right.”
“I know. But I’m not going to chase a man, no matter how sexy he is.” I pause before trying my best to reassure my best friend. “I don’t want you to worry. I have a score to work on. I have museums to visit. Books to read. I’ll be fine. Now go back to your own sexy Englishman.”
The man who took care of me while my heart was breaking kisses my forehead then whispers, “I love you, sweetheart.”
Four
I wake up dressed in the same black leggings and gray tunic sweatshirt I wore last night. Absentmindedly, I forgot to change and brush my teeth. I’m gross and have a slight hangover. The last thing I can remember is drinking a glass of bourbon after Roger left my room.
What the hell is happening to me?
There goes the idea of me being fierce.
After a few minutes of mindlessly staring at the ceiling, I finally will myself out of bed. You’re going to be fierce. I rush to the bathroom to do my business and brush my neglected teeth. Once back in my bedroom, I sit on my bed and reach for my phone. I notice a new voicemail message from Marcel. I hit play:
“Evangelina, it’s Marcel. I’m in the city. Please call me.”
I need to return his call, but my head’s still a mess. I decide to turn on the music system to allow it to play throughout the loft and take a long shower. I belt aloud to Ariana Grande’s “Problem” and try to shake the blues away.
Now that Roger and Alex have left for London, I walk around in my underwear, singing my heart out. I talk myself into being fierce every hour on the hour. I think about my career and how grateful I am for having it. After Patti and I were fired from the record company, I had decided I was not made to work in an office environment. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about rent since I had inherited my father’s loft.
Patti moved forward in public relations. Roger decided on a career in the music side of the business. I dreamed of being the next Ennio Morricone. From the moment I watched Cinema Paradiso, my heart knew what it longed to create. I was entranced, and Morricone’s score haunted my dreams. Music has the ability to induce unexpected emotions in the most unexpected scenes. And like my film score heroes, I wanted to create music that would enhance a fil
mgoer’s experience.
Miraculously, a small production company contacted Roger a few days after I was fired from the label. Roger had already worked on a couple of indie films as a music supervisor, so it wasn’t a surprise that a small film company would reach out to him. My best guy friend had a knack for finding talent and music. Only a handful of folks knew I composed, and Roger was one of them. Once he had received direction from Cosima Carp, who was directing her first indie film, and her two producers, he approached me.
“You’re out of work. And this might be the right opportunity. It doesn’t pay much, but this would be a great start. Just read the script and come up with thematic music for one of the scenes I highlighted. I’ll need this in two days.”
I had balked at first, but then realized that if I didn’t at least try, I would never know if I could make it as a film composer. I had set up a small recording studio in my loft as soon as I graduated from college. It wasn’t a state of the art studio at the time, but it allowed me to compose and record. I spent the first day reading the script and the second day trying to come up with music for a particular scene. It wasn’t difficult to pick one.
The movie was about first love and the heartache it brings. By the time I finished reading the script, I had already composed the music in my head. Within hours of submitting the music cues, Darling Films and Cosima Carp offered me my first job as a soundtrack composer.
Several years later, I find myself working on another score for the same production company and director. I haven’t seen the final cut, and I’m only working through cues. I met with Cosima a few days ago with Roger. And although this is the fourth film in the past three years that I have scored for Darling Films, I still don’t know much about them, other than they’ve managed to have a string of hits since they formally opened shop five years ago. Two of my closest friends also work with the film company−Roger as a music supervisor, and Patti as their publicist.