Dear Valentine: A Gay Romance Story (Opposites Attract Series Book 2)

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Dear Valentine: A Gay Romance Story (Opposites Attract Series Book 2) Page 13

by Romeo Alexander


  The next day is the day before the performance, and after another run through of Swan Lake with Angela hissing in my ear the entire time, we then move on to have one more run through of Rent, and then we are given the evening off.

  I quickly excuse myself from the dining hall, telling Gregor I want to go to a fitting one last time because it felt like the seems on my unitard were a little snug and if it needs to be let out then it should be done tonight. He frowns at me and says, “Are you sure? You’ve tried on that white monstrosity for Swan Lake hundreds of times.”

  “Yeah, I need to be sure,” I tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Everyone around the table is subdued. Not melancholy but just exhausted. The music kids who usually play a little during meals don’t even play around with their instruments, and whoever didn’t get a part in the musical has been working nonstop backstage on props and set designs and curtain call schedules. The whole dining hall has a hushed feeling to it, like it’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Julliard had even contracted with the Culinary Institute of America to come in and cater the dining tables as part of their midterm practical tests. The menus had been designed and set by them, and the two institutions were working in tandem to put on one of the finest performances between the two schools that the city had ever seen. Crews were working round the clock to transform the auditorium so that small dinette sets were seated between every two seats, but enough room was allowed for the wait staff to use the row below it to maneuver and not obstruct the view of the dances and the musicals. Some of the finest dinery was brought in and the auditorium was grossly over decorated in pinks and reds for the holiday.

  The whole atmosphere was one of exhaustion paired with excitement and topped with anticipation as we waited for tomorrow evening. I made my way through the cafeteria to murmured, “good lucks” and “break a leg tomorrow.” The only ones who didn’t say anything to me were Angela and Eric.

  Eric had been in a perpetual bad mood since the rehearsal with the kissing. He had gone to Madame after practice that day and asked to be reinstated as lead, but she had shut him down immediately, telling him he was far too behind to even be considered for it. She reassured him he would be allowed to dance for the end of year performance, which no one else was thinking about at the current time, but he had stormed out of the studio in a fit of rage.

  He had been glowering at us all week and offering very little words of advice about the dances, as he was supposed to be doing. Katarina said, “I think he assumes if he doesn’t offer any input, you’ll make an ass of yourself.”

  “It’s just as well. Madame and Mr. Schlewp have been on my case since I got back,” I respond.

  Even Gregor seemed unusually quiet and that is why I was leaving in a hurry tonight. He had been worried all week about a particularly difficult move in the choreography and we had been going over it again and again until we were both sick of it.

  “Katarina, can you help me?” I ask, looking at her pointedly.

  “Can’t you do it yourself? It buttons up the front anyway,” she whines, pushing her mashed potatoes around on her dinner plate.

  “I could really use your help this time,” I beg her in earnest. She glances up and my eyes flutter to Gregor quickly and then back to her.

  “Yeah, ok. I wasn’t really wanting this anyway,” she mutters. She gets up and dumps her tray, returning it to the dish cart and follows me out the door.

  When we get to the atrium, I turn right and head toward the front doors.

  “Hey, where are you going?” she asks as she hurries to catch up. “I thought you wanted to try on the Swan Lake unitard?”

  “I personally would love to burn that material in a fiery blaze if I could, but it will have to be after tomorrow night,” I inform her.

  “Then where are we going? Colin, I’m exhausted.”

  I glance over my shoulder to make sure Gregor hasn’t followed us or seen us. She keeps pestering me until we are around the corner and halfway down the street.

  “I need something for tomorrow,” I tell her.

  “What could you possibly need for tomorrow? The school is taking care of the costumes and food and stuff,” she gripes.

  “No, you don’t understand. I have never given a Valentine before,” I inform her.

  “Huh?” She looks confused and I wait for her brain to catch up.

  “You want to get something for Gregor!” Her face lights up.

  “Yeah, except, I have never gotten a man a Valentine’s Day gift, and I have no idea what to get him.” I rub the back of my neck. The February chill seeps through my clothes and I want to get back to school and find Gregor to warm up.

  “Oh, there are so many options!” She claps her hands together, pulling her light cardigan over her shoulders. I hadn’t grabbed outdoor wear, not wanting to give Gregor a suspicion that I was going out. But that was a stupid idea, given how cold it is.

  “Let’s get inside this little trinket store.” She points to a small store on the corner. We enter the shop and a small bell chimes overhead. We rub our hands together and shiver, pressed together for warmth.

  “I thought about going to the drug store or supermarket one street further. I’m sure they have cards and chocolate and stuff,” I whisper. The store is dimly lit with soft glowing candles. It reminds me of a flower shop, only this one houses all sorts of baubles and knick knacks. There’s necklaces and candles for sale. There’s incense sticks which make my nose burn and small figurines. It’s kind of a catch all store where someone might find something for anyone. I’m hoping maybe I can find something here for Gregor. There’s a small display of Valentine items on a table near the register, and it doesn’t take me long to pick out a card.

  “You think this is good?” I ask Katarina.

  “Yeah, that’s a good start. But you want something unusual. The relationship you two have isn’t ordinary and Gregor is an extraordinary guy!” She’s looking around and picks up a pewter elephant.

  “I don’t know that Gregor has mentioned anything about liking elephants, Katarina.” I set the figure down and at that moment, a thin, frail woman with too much perfume and makeup on emerges from the back room through a clinking of beads that cloak the door in long strands. Katarina and I stare up at her as she floats toward us in a rustle of satin. She’s wearing a corset dress that belongs circa the Renaissance era and she sashays from side to side as she approaches us. My theory is she’s on something, or this is all for dramatic effect, in which case, I truly believe Julliard should offer her a scholarship.

  “Hello, dearies,” she trills in a sing song voice. “Let me see, you need, a love spell.”

  “Huh?” Katarina stares at her stupidly. Of all the places in the city we could have stepped into, a faux fortune teller’s head shop had to be the one.

  “Um, no Ma’am. I’m just looking for a gift for my boyfriend,” I tell her. She pauses her swaying and looks at me down her reedy thin nose for a moment.

  “Ah!” she cries. “I have just the thing!” She pulls out from under the glass counter, a large display of assorted rings. Most of which are gaudy and pewter.

  “Um, I don’t think this is quite what I’m looking for,” I mutter. I feel my face flush, not wanting to offend her but not really sure I am going to find something that is suitable. “Maybe I should just get the card.” I hold it out to her and she places it on the counter.

  “Nonsense. There must be something in my wares that you seek.”

  “Yeah, ok, Shakespeare. We’ll just be looking over here.” Katarina tugs on my arm as she moves us toward the far display.

  “Look, let me just get the card and we can go, ok?” I whisper looking back at the store owner.

  “Oh, come on, Colin, pick something out. You dragged me down here in the cold, remember?”

  I bite my lip and look around. He wouldn’t be into the assorted candles and fragranced oils. I see a display to my right that hosts a bunch of pins. I turn away and look at the scarves
and pillows and trinkets lining the shelves. There’s nothing here that catches my eye. I turn back to Katarina to beg her to run for it with me, when something flashes in my peripheral vision. It’s annoying, so I turn toward the board of pins and see that it is a small silver pin with the theater masks comedy and tragedy set on a silver pin clasp. The back of the masks rests on a bed of two quail feathers that jut up. I suddenly have just the idea and inspiration I have been looking for.

  “That,” I point to it and turn to the store owner who has danced her way toward us.

  “Oh, that old thing? It’s dreadful,” the store owner comments.

  “No, it’s perfect,” I tell her. “My boyfriend is a theater student at Julliard.” She gives me a withering look but moves the entire display, unpinning it from the board. After she rings up the purchase and gift wraps it at the counter, Katarina and I dash up the street back to school, glad to be rid of the assaulting aromas from the store. I was starting to get a headache from the various smells and the store owner kind of creeped me out. When I get back to the school I sit in Katarina’s room, trying to think of something to write in the card. I eventually just put the pen to the paper, and let the ink dance across the card.

  Dear Gregor,

  I’ve never gotten anyone a Valentine’s Day card or gift before. This is a first for me. I wasn’t sure what to write, and it seems I’m still not really sure what to say except, thank you. Thank you for being endlessly patient with me. To be honest, I was never looking for a relationship when I first met you. I was so wrapped up in where I thought my life needed to be, I never once considered where it is now and who is in it that makes me happy. But then you came along and changed all of that. You showed me a world where I could dance just for the love of dance again. And you showed me that sometimes the beat and rhythm don’t always go to the tempo I want them to, but you taught me that it’s ok to change my pace to match it. You taught me that loving someone is a new kind of dance. I realize it hasn’t been easy. I’ve been particularly obtuse. There have been moments we’ve laughed and cried and probably wanted to scream at each other. That’s why I thought this pin would be a great Valentine’s gift. Maybe you could pin it to your Fedora? I think it would make a great decoration at the base of the hat and spruce it up a little. The masks, comedy and tragedy, represent us all as we go through life. Our relationship, in particular, has been a comedy of errors. But until you came along, I didn’t realize that was the point. That is how relationships are supposed to be. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I love to laugh and cry with you and I can’t imagine life without you in it, doing both of those things with me. I think this is the part where I am supposed to ask you to be my Valentine, but truthfully, I feel more like asking you to be my everything.

  Love,

  Colin

  I finish the letter in the card in small cramped writing, and Katarina looks over my shoulder with tears streaming down her face.

  “Cut it out,” I gripe.

  “That’s so sweet!” she wipes at her cheeks.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I shrug and stuff the card in the envelope. I stand and pull her into a hug and then leave the room, cramming the card and the gift box in my bag and head back to my room. When I get there, Gregor is sound asleep, so I carefully unzip my bag, and place the card and the box on top of his hat, knowing he will find them right away when he wakes up. I crawl into bed with him and fall asleep as I warm up under the covers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning, I wake up and two realizations hit me. The first is that today is the day. The performance is here at last. I feel the weight of anxiety pressing down on my shoulders. I roll out of bed, aware of the second thing which is, Gregor isn’t in bed with me anymore. I panic a little until I see a small heart shaped box, sitting on my nightstand. I pick it up and open it.

  Inside the box is a set of small silver keys. I frown down at them for a moment before realizing exactly what they are. I pull on my clothes and dash up the countless flights of stairs and try out the first key. It doesn’t work so I try the second key which opens the door to the rooftop access.

  I prop the door open and run across the roof, hugging my arms to my chest against the cold to where Gregor stands waiting for me. The pin is already on the hat and the card is sticking out of his coat pocket. He doesn’t say anything, and I jump into his arms in a hug. After a few moments I lean back for my morning kiss, and when he pulls back he frowns at me.

  “Are you nuts? Where is your jacket? You know it’s cold up here.”

  “I forgot when I realized what the key is for,” I tell him sheepishly. He pulls me back in his arms and wraps me in his coat to keep me warm while we watch the sun come up over the city. “So, you liked the present?” I ask tentatively.

  “It’s the best present anyone has ever given me,” he admits before leaning in for another kiss.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” I mumble into his lips and he smiles. “What’s the other key for?” I ask suddenly.

  “Oh, I know once you’ve seen one rooftop, you’ve seen them all, but the other key is for the rooftop in Boston,” he informs me. It’s my turn to smile, it seems they are infectious today.

  “Rooftops are our place we can go to be on top of the world together,” I murmur. He nods in agreement as we look at the city scape. After a few moments and my uncontrollable shivering, he says, “Come on. Time to go get ready.”

  We make our way downstairs and spend the rest of the day with the other students and Mr. Schlewp and Madame in a state of mind numbing fear and panic. A few times I get so worked up, but then am grateful that Gregor is right there, kissing me and bringing me back down to earth.

  That evening, I peek from behind the curtain and the entire auditorium is full. Apparently, a performance and liaison with another school hasn’t happened quite like this before. I turn back, unable to find Gregor, because he is in makeup, and instead find a smiling Madame standing in front of me.

  “Remember, O’Shea. Just try,” she encourages. Her words are every bit as grounding as Gregor’s kisses, because for the first time in a long time, I realize that there are people who believe in me.

  When it’s time to perform Swan Lake, I do it flawlessly. Angela is the picture of perfection and we float and glide across the dance floor. She seems to have given up her hostility, in favor of the romantic vibes from the dining audience. We are applauded to a deafening and uproarious cacophony of sounds. Even Eric can find nothing to critique.

  “Did you see? In the audience?” Katarina whispers to me.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Only the head of the New York Ballet Company, The American Ballet Company, The Russian Ballet Company and of course, the president here at Julliard. You will have your pick of companies to dance for if you want!” She dances on her toes in excitement as I look at Madame who for the first time, looks at me approvingly.

  Our next performance, Rent, leaves not a single person with a dry eye in the house. I dance and sing and deliver my lines to perfection. The rest of the cast and crew perform just as well, and there is a solid minute of complete silence when the curtain falls for the last time, and then the standing ovation has the entire auditorium shaking because the applause, cheers, and whistles are so loud. We move to make our bows and I clasp Gregor’s hand as we walk on stage in front of everyone to make our bow. Then in front of the whole auditorium and out of character, he swoops me up and kisses me. The cheering grows louder as flowers and small gifts are thrown up on the stage. We bow again and exit to the right.

  When it is all over and family is mingling with performers. Katarina has gone to find her parents and Gregor’s mom with her youngest son, Joey, as her date come to congratulate us. But what really surprises me is when I hear a soft voice clear his throat behind me. I whirl around and come face to face with my dad. My jaw drops as I say, “Dad? What are you doing here?” I shake my head as Gregor remains by my side, not saying a word. Dad look
s between us and then does something I haven’t seen in a long time. He smiles and holds out his arms.

  “You were incredible,” he says gruffly into my hair when I move in for a hug.

  “I didn’t know you’d come,” I step back. He’s leaning heavily on a cane. I had called Mum the week after getting back to school and the surgery had been a success. It was going to be a long time before he could walk without the cane, and he would always have a limp.

  “Your mum had the tickets, and to be honest, I really didn’t want to miss this,” he admits.

  “You didn’t? I don’t understand, you’ve never said…I didn’t think…” I look between him and Gregor who continues to remain silent.

  “I spent so many years trying to remain passive about it. But I knew. I wasn’t sure how to act, Colin. I was never angry. Then with the explosion, I thought, why am I keeping that from you. You have gone after what makes you happy and by not admitting my approval, I was denying that small bit of it to you. All I’ve ever wanted was for my sons to be happy. Seeing you dance, and with Gregor here, I realized that you are happy, and that’s what’s important.”

  I try so hard to fight the tears in my eyes, but they mist over. “I’m so glad you came,” I whisper.

  “Me too, son. Me too.” He pulls me in to another hug and the last bit of heartache I had been holding in all these years vanishes. I clear my throat, “Where’s Mum?”

  “She wanted to meet Katarina’s parents and Gregor’s mom,” he admits. I nod and turn to Gregor.

  “Um, you remember my dad.” He nods and holds out his hand, but my dad pulls him into a hug too.

  “Good to see you again, Gregor. You’re welcome home with Colin anytime.” I see Gregor wipe at his cheeks with his sleeve too.

  “I know these are usually saved for female ballerinas and everything, but I wasn’t sure what to get male ballerinas.”

  “Danseurs, we’re called Danseurs, Dad.” He nods and hands each of us a single red rose. It’s touching. “Thank you.” I smile at him happily as Gregor loops his arm over my shoulder.

 

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