by Sia Wales
“Nothing, little girl,” he whispers as he clenches his jaw, his lips tightened in a harsh line. “It doesn’t matter.”
I quickly wipe my tears and look up at him. It is only when Donn notices my eyes still filled with tears that his expression suddenly changes. His priorities are different now: he doesn’t want to see me like this. Once again, he almost puts his lips on mine, as if to take my mind off it all. He doesn’t touch me, although yearning for a kiss that, for the moment being, will remain lingering. What he really seems to want from me is a smile. And he does get one. Why couldn’t I just allow myself to spend a pleasant evening with him, without feeling embarrassed? Suddenly, I am smiling at him. One more time.
“Would you like me to watch the end of the play all by myself?” I snigger, and then I sigh.
He holds back a laugh. “No. I am staying right here, watching you,” he whispers in my ear. I blush, as he seems to enjoy my embarrassment, and I begin to cry, as Sybil’s death approaches.
I cover my eyes and hide my face into Donn’s neck. At first he slightly slaps my shoulders and rubs my back to try and comfort me, but then, with no apparent explanation, something goes wrong. Donn gently sits me back on my chair and leans forward, holding his head in his hands.
Initially, I think this is due to his exasperation to my reaction to the play. But then I hear him growl.
“Donn, is everything allright?” I ask.
As he begins growling again, a couple in the auditorium looks up at him.
He is holding on to my armrest. “Yes,” he responds, almost out of breath. “All I want to do right now is scream.”
I notice the sweat on his forehead, highlighted by the dim light coming from the stage.
Another grumble, and he is dashing for the door. I stand up to go after him, but he is right behind me.
“No. You stay here!” He roars, pale, sweat pouring down his face, by now. He doesn’t look good at all.
I decide to follow him regardless. “How could I not make sure you are ok?”
“For two hundred years, I’ve been doing just fine without you. You don’t have to… Enjoy the moment of the massacre!” He yells, as we are walking out into the hall.
He looks very unsettled. “What is going on?”
“Don’t worry. The thing is that…” He pauses. “A person who was so dear to me, committed suicide. And living all over again the moment before the tragedy… Brought back to mind… The pain came back without me trying to recall it. And it is as if a sign of her presence is still impressed somewhere else, not just in my subconscious.”
“Who, Donn? Who are you talking about?”
“She is dead. It doesn’t matter much now, does it?”
“Tell me who you are talking about.”
“I’m thinking of the only woman who has ever loved me, who gave her life for me.”
He will not say anything more about it, this evening.
“I have the impression that what matters the most to you is that nobody can see the real you hidden behind this mask you’re wearing. Why is it that you constantly avoid answering my questions?”
Donn glares at me. “You don’t need to know who I really am. And, regardless, you will have to deal with me, at least until the conclusion of our agreement.”
“Hmmm… Still the same old bully.”
He lifts up his gaze. I can feel his tension. “And you are the same old, stubborn, little girl!”
I break into a quick smile. “Well, congratulations for the choice of entertainment,” I mutter. “This play seems to be quite painful for you to watch, and I don’t want you to hurt.”
“It hurts me, because it reflects who I am,” he admits. Once we are out of the hall, his voice turns from a whisper into his usual firm tone. “You know, you should go out with people who know how to keep their calm, somebody who can laugh when faced with a tragedy, instead of crumbling like I do.” I shake my head. “I like you like this … but I’ll keep my eyes open.” I give him a funny look.
Now we are all alone in a smaller foyer. The second act just started. The main entrance, which I can see out of the corner of my eye, is empty. It’s so silent that I hear the whisper of the air flowing through the grills of the cooling system.
Nobody is in sight, and Donn now seems relieved by the fact that I am with him. I never would have expected it. His tormented, and yet inquisitive gaze, is trying to make something out of my teary eyes and my facial expression. Suddenly he sits on one of the red velvet chairs against the wall, taking a few moments to put himself back together. He looks surly… intense. He needs to be left alone for a while, and I know exactly what I have to do.
I turn to the exit doors.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“I think I’m ready for a snack. Popcorn sounds good. Would you like some?”
“No, thank you,” he smiles. “And I’m not sure you will find popcorn at this theater.”
I shrug. “I need to get a drink, then,” I say as I’m walking away from him.
I spend some time at the bar, wondering how much time Donn will need to pull himself back together. Ten minutes should be more than enough.
Outside the venue, I lean against one of the walls, trying not to think about the irony of the situation. I have to admit, though, that it is quite funny that I, Stella May Whitely, ended up at the theater with Dorian Grayshire. I came to watch a play where the main character wears a thousand masks, and the author -by the way, my mother’s absolute favorite- bears the same family name as my sociology professor.
How could I have ever thought of that?
I did have some dreams about being Elisabeth Bennet dealing with Mr. Darcy in nineteenth-century England, but never about turning into a theater actress who commits suicide, abused and rejected by the man she loves. I shake my head, trying to get rid of these dark thoughts. I glance at the entrance. Donn is leaving the bar. He is looking around for me. Fifteen minutes have already gone by, according to the big clock on the side of the street. I cast a second glance at Donn. He is asking one of the ushers, his finger pointing at the street behind his back. A sudden gust of wind brushes my neck, then reaches his golden hair through the open door.
He tenses up, and stops talking. He turns and calms down only when he sees me, although it only lasts for a moment. He frowns and shoots me an angry look with his penetrating eyes.
“You are missing out on the best part,” he whispers as he walks towards me. “He has almost made up his mind to rejoin Sybil in death.”
“I needed some fresh air,” and I offer him a sip of my Coke.
He leans forward and looks at me, ironically. “Thanks, little girl, but… I’m not thirsty,” he replies with a heart-wrenching tone. I know how hard it is for him to say those words.
I take the last sip, throw the empty can in the trash bin by the traffic light, and slowly walk back to where Donn stands.
“It’s been a fantastic evening. I will never forget it. It will stay with me forever. Thank you Donn. You are still capable of human instincts. They are buried somewhere deep, but they are indeed there,” I sigh, closing my eyes for a brief moment. I kiss his cheek, my face touching his tense, marble-like jaw. All I feel now is him. Breathing.
He leans over, puts an arm around my waist, grabs my other hand and gracefully twirls me around.
“I was wondering… would you go to a ball with me?” he asks on my second pirouette.
“It will be on All Saints Day… matching the theme of the evening, don’t you think?”
He brings my hands around his neck, then lifts me off the ground, holding me even tighter. For a moment, I am flying, a few inches from the ground.
I nod, then give him a smile. “Thank you for asking me. Unfortunately, I can’t dance.” His feet slide under mine. All of a sudden we are whirling outside the theater’s main entrance.
“You will have the entire night,” he reassures me. “And then, I will tell you everything about my death, and a
bout the woman I was growling about, earlier.” It sounds like a promise.
“Donn,” my throat is so dry that can only let out a rasping breath. “I don’t think this is a good idea…”
“I was hoping you would join the dance,” he insists in his velvety voice.
I shiver, and manage a shy smile. “And where would this take place, exactly?”
“In a venue along the coast, especially set up to host parties and receptions. Here, in Massachusetts, north of Boston. It would really mean a lot to me if you came to the ball. Needless to say, I will be your escort.”
I steal a glance at him. “I don’t believe I was ever invited to it.”
He sighs. “I am inviting you now.”
“What kind of ball is it?” I inquire. “A private party, a charity event, or something similar?”
“It is a charity ball, as a matter of fact,” he explains. “But the purpose is to collect … blood. You know, for the blood bank. However, I can’t hide the fact that ten, maybe twenty percent of the blood is for us… It seems like fair deal to me. We get our nourishment, and do a good deed at the same time.”
“Honestly, Donn, I can’t dance,” I gasp, as panic begins to burn me from the inside.
“You, silly girl. You don’t have to worry,” he says. “I will take care of you, and keep you away from danger.”
“I believe that, for this week, you and I should not overdo it. Poor Vuk. I don’t think I should send him over the edge,” I add quickly.
He looks crossly at me. “You are turning down my invitation for the second time in a row.”
“It is not my fault if you keep telling yourself I will go to the ball with you,” I mumble.
“If I had asked you earlier, in the small foyer, when I wasn’t feeling well… Would you have said no back then, also?” He is not taking his eyes off me.
“Probably not,” I admit. “But I think I would have found a way to get out of it at the last minute.”
He sneers. “Oh, really?”
“I would have probably relied on a sprained ankle. I am sorry about this misunderstanding…”
He rolls his eyes. “And how so?”
I shake my head, cautiously. “I guess you didn’t hear me clearly enough when I said that Jason is back… I thought you’d understand. Plus… I cannot dance on a flat and solid surface without losing my balance.”
He bursts out laughing. “Of course. But that wouldn’t be a problem.” He sounds really confident. “First of all, it would be enough to keep you away from the drinks…” he says, with a crooked smile.
Now I start feeling irritated. “Listen, I haven’t forgiven you for what happened with Bryan at the Rise”. I cringe at the thought of it.
“Oh, he would have found the right moment to ask you, regardless. Even if I hadn’t been there from the beginning,” he laughs. “I was simply dying to see your reaction.”
If watching him laugh weren’t so fascinating, his words would sound really upsetting.
“… Then, secondly, it all depends on who’s leading,” he adds, and continues on with his list. He knows I’m ready to answer back, and he doesn’t leave me the time to do so. “Don’t you want to be my friend?”
“Yes.”
“So, why can’t I invite a friend to the ball?”
“I think you could.”
“Well, then go to the ball with me. I will lead you. I won’t let you go, ever. I promise.”
I smile. At his tender promise, I let down all my resistance. “Well, after all, it doesn’t sound that bad,” I say, my head still spinning from the twirls. I accept his invitation.
Yes, I admit it, am a crazy masochist.
All of a sudden, Donn is staring down the street. He looks tense.
“What is going on?” I ask, breathless. I follow his gaze, yet, all I see, is darkness.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.” His alert eyes are still fixed on the road, piercing through the low clouds.
“Please, tell me what is wrong,” I ask again, my hand on his shoulder. That is his typical look when he sees…
He turns his head, somber, his surly gaze on me, for a brief moment. Then his eyes go back to the street. “It’s nothing,” he tries to avoid my question, yet pretending to listen to my words.
“Donn, don’t lie to me… Why are you looking so absent-minded all of a sudden?” He is staring at somebody he would like to see disappear instantly.
Now he frowns, a deep shadow growing on his countenance. “Stella, I … don’t think I am the best person to tell you this. And I don’t believe I would be able to have control over my mouth, over my tones.”
“Something is happening, isn’t it?”
“It’s nothing,” he tries to reassure me one more time. “I am sure that now you will see him with your own eyes.” I step off his feet, as he takes a step back.
I turn to face the road, and, yes, after my initial stupor, I understand what was worrying Donn so much. Jason. Not in a dark outfit, but wearing his suit and helmet, riding his roaring bike.
“He is back from the hunt,” I whisper to myself, dumbfounded, and excited.
He crosses the street, moving towards us.
Donn is growling, softly, anguished.
My mortified expression catches his eyes. I try to calm him down.
He is furious, indeed, but he is keeping it in check. “He wants to take you away. So much for the end of the play, and the dagger ripping the painting.” I cannot help feeling a deep sense of guilt. We are all silent, looking, intensely, into each other’s eyes.
It’s too early when Jason hits his brakes and brusquely stops in front of us.
I turn to face him. The only dim, diaphanous light irradiating from his skin is visible around the edge of his gloves.
I would have gladly insisted for Donn to join us, even just for a few minutes, but Jason is waiting for me on the side of the road.
He delicately hits his horn, then two more impatient honks. Donn looks up. “Your boyfriend seems quite anxious,” he mumbles. “Is he afraid I will hold you in my fangs?”
I roll my eyes. “Drop it, Donn… We know you guys don’t have fangs.”
“He grinds his teeth. Something similar.” He mumbles.
“Well, that’s the way Jason is.” I reply. “Anything else?”
He leans over. “Jason is back, I know. But… Stella, are you sure you made the right choice?” His voice breaks, on that last word.
“Yes.” I look at him with teary eyes. “Distance has changed many things, and it has changed me. I know who I can live without. And Jason is one of those people I am not ready to give up.”
He frowns.
“But now…” I blurt out, “I can’t live without you, either.” My voice is barely audible, and I feel completely helpless.
A satisfied grin appears on his perfect features, but I can sense that many worries are still withering his face.
“I know what I want… what I have to do now… And I know what I need…” I reassure him. My lips curve into a smile. “Balance, remember?”
“Go to him. He is waiting,” he murmurs as he nods towards Jason. “I will make sure he won’t stay around for long,” he laughs as he winks at me.
I shake my head, grumbling. “I cannot even imagine anything like that. How could I? Donn, two hundred years ago, you were dying, in this very moment.”
“Yes, two hundred years ago,” he confirms.
“I know that my leaving now would kill you all over again.”
“These very words you just told me saved me from a certain death. This is enough for me now,” he whispers. “And… by the way, as I was dying, if Jason hadn’t been here I would not have stolen a kiss from your lips. Better… not right away. But a promise from your heart, to selfishly treasure within me,” he murmurs in my ear, referring to the moment when, earlier, in the parking lot, he had, once again, cast a glance inside my mind.
Time is running out. Donn pulls back before I have a ch
ance to say anything, then he pulls himself together and tells me it’s time to go. Jason pretends he doesn’t really know what is happening. He waits, nervously, perfectly still in front of us.
I don’t feel the same tension as before, and so I nod and do all I can to erase any trace of anxiety from my face. I turn to finally join Jason and yet, unexpectedly, I find myself slowly moving backwards, running back to Donn. I kiss his cheek one last time, grabbing so tight onto his neck to hug him and bury myself within his chest.
For once, I catch him by surprise.
He looks at me. Divinely. “I am not the most beautiful thing in your life. However, I want to be the worst thing that, regardless, you would still find yourself choosing over and over, in spite of all the best you might have in life… This. This is enough, forever,” he bursts out, breathless, dropping part of his mask, and only now he lets me go, satisfied. I walk, frazzled, towards Jason’s bike.
Out of patience, Jason lifts up his visor, and looks at me with his sapphire eyes. “Hey, hi!” he calls me softly, and I return the smile.
Another quick glance at Donn, still behind me, and I am on the road.
Jason helps me wear my leather jacket and helmet.
“Good evening, Jason,” a kind Donn says in the end, turning to him with peacefulness in his eyes.
Jason, very practical as usual, ignores the kindness and greets him with a raised hand.
“Where are you taking her?” Donn steps in, again.
“We are going to Medford,” Jason replies. He turns to me with the most enchanting look in his eyes. “I am taking Stella home.” Donn looks at me, cautious, and yet inquisitive. “Ah, good. Jeff will love it,” he laughs. “Wait, why don’t you go pay a quick visit to Jeff alone. I bet you would love it.”
“Well, yeah, it probably would,” Jason sniggers, sarcastically.
They both frown, and turn somber at the same time.
“Jump on, Stella!” yells Jason, louder than the powerful and gloomy thunder of his bike. He smiles as the motor roars up.
I’m on the saddle now, and I barely feel the discomfort from the helmet and the padded jacket.