by Allie Hayden
I was a valued asset to the team. This was something I learned after I was searching for work someplace else (thinking that the distance from the city would be helpful)―the company responded by giving me a raise and assigning me to only the projects I wanted to work on.
We were putting on a classic next, Swan Lake, and there were lots of embellishments to be done, and I was one of the few people trusted with doing the more complicated, difficult, or delicate work. It wasn’t quite the job I wanted as designer, but I knew I would get there someday if I kept at it, and so I tried not to let the past be a setback.
Quickly, I settled into the rhythm of work, plugging in my headphones to listen to some music as the repetition of the task threatened to bring me into the land of daydreams. No, this beading and embroidery needed my full attention; I couldn’t afford to have my mind wander off to far-away places, no matter how tempting they were.
17. (Lillian)
Meghan came up to my desk, and I looked up at her as she set down an envelope in front of me.
“Good news,” she said with a smile. “The ballet company really enjoyed your work, and they agreed to let you do a special issue on their costumes workshop. They just started work on their costumes for Swan Lake, so this should be a really good opportunity for you. And, as thanks, they’ve given you a ticket to another showing of Sleeping Beauty, if you choose. This time you can just be part of the audience. You can sit back and enjoy.”
I accepted the envelope, which held the rectangular shape of a ticket, with a nod of thanks. “That’s wonderful news,” I said.
“I couldn’t agree more. I really think this could be the one, Lillian, that breakthrough issue you were looking for. If this doesn’t skyrocket you to the beaches of fame, I don’t know what will.”
I laughed a little, excited and nervous from the pressure of the situation.
“Now go on; they’ve agreed to let you start photographing today. I’ll have someone else take over the editing you were doing; you’ve got some groundbreaking photos to catch.” With that, Meghan turned around and left, skirt swishing around her legs as she strutted back to her office with the kind of confidence I hoped to achieve one day.
As I walked from the subway to the ballet company theater, I looked down at my phone. There was a text that came in from Sebastian, whom I had informed as soon as I got the ticket for the ballet. I figured it might be fun to go with him and Rebecca, but the text was bad news.
The show is all sold out tonight—I can’t find any way to get tickets.
That’s too bad, I typed back.
Your story really must have made a tremendous impact. Usually my ways yield results, but not this time.
What are you, a mob boss? I sent back, laughing a little to myself at the joke.
No, but I may know a few~
You? A good law-abiding citizen-lawyer? In contact with mob bosses?
You never know. Do a couple of favors for one and they enjoy returning the gift.
Sometimes with Sebastian, especially over text, I couldn’t tell what was a joke and what was truth. I smiled, thinking to myself that I might never know.
When I arrived at the ballet theatre, it was this grand and impressive building. I tucked away my phone and found my way to the back entrance that the letter from the company had directed me to. There was someone there who directed me to the workshop, smiling and congratulating me on the successful story as I passed.
There were a few other employees who were getting the theater ready for the night’s performance, greeting and congratulating me as well, some wanting to tell me what their favorite part was or suggest ideas for further collaborations with the company. I tried my best to be polite, hurrying along to the workshop, eager to start taking photos.
The sight that greeted me when I arrived was more than what I could have ever hoped for. There was a wonderful, almost manic energy to the place. It seemed to be pulsing, full of life with the spirit of creation. The seamstresses were fast at work, drafting up costumes from their designs, and sewing on fine embellishments to the fabric that would catch the lights of the stage and reflect to the audience in the most dazzling of ways.
One of them was working with fine white feathers, tacking them onto the costume and carefully shaping them with the sharp edge of a knife so that they curled gracefully away from the body. I almost forgot what I was there to do. Almost.
But I was a photographer, through and through, and my first instinct when I saw something of great beauty or impact was to capture it through the lens of my camera. So I did, doing my best not to disturb anyone’s work, but wanting to catch the most detailed of images as possible.
I was so entranced in my work that I didn’t even notice the coming and going of characters into and out of the room. But one of the seamstress’s heads went up, and there was such a conflicted expression in her eyes that I found herself compelled to lift my gaze and look up.
It was that male ballet dancer from the night before, the one who had provided me with such an interesting image of flirtation, and who had consequently attempted to try to flirt with me back. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something about him that seemed off.
“Lucas, what are you doing here? Your call time isn’t until later,” the seamstress said, seeming a little flustered.
Some of the younger, pretty assistants were looking on with a great deal of interest, their tasks momentarily forgotten as they gawked at the man and waited for him to bestow attention upon them.
“We didn’t finish our conversation earlier. I didn’t want to leave anything unsaid,” he said, stalking across the room towards her with a smile, his gait seeming deceptively easy and laid-back.
“There’s nothing to finish, Lucas. I have work to do.” There was a hint of anger in the seamstress’s words, but also an undertone of fear.
“I wouldn’t be interrupting your work,” he said, looking for somewhere to sit.
Recognizing what seemed to be an urgent situation, I stepped up to him, blocking his way.
He looked down at me with a smile. “Oh? What do we have here?”
“I’m photographing the workshop tonight, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t stay,” I said, making sure my tone was stern and my expression unyielding.
Lucas shrugged. “Alright, whatever you say, pretty girl. I’ll catch you later.” He directed the last part at the seamstress, then left.
I took a deep breath before walking over to the seamstress he had been harassing. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. My name’s Lillian.”
She looked at me with a grateful expression. “Mine’s Bella.”
After taking more photographs, I headed home to drop off my equipment, change, and freshen up before heading back to the theatre at the time of the performance (though not before promising Rebecca that we would continue our marathon of the current drama we were watching the next night).
The cold air was refreshing as I exited into the night and got into my ride. At this time of night, the city was beautiful, though the lights did drown out the stars. That was one of the things I had enjoyed most about my retreat with Rebecca. The stars had been blinding. Every night, they shone above us, and it had felt like a completely different world. I never saw the stars in New York.
Even as a kid, I barely saw them. I remembered one time, looking at constellations with Sebastian when we were stumbling through our first romance, but it was nothing like what I had seen with Rebecca. Maybe I could convince Sebastian to drive us out to the countryside, so we could all stargaze on our backs in a place with no light pollution. I only vaguely remembered what they looked like when I was younger, but the thought left me as I approached my destination.
The theater was packed when I entered, and I struggled to find the way to my seat, as many people were already sitting in the row I had been given, and I had to awkwardly step over people’s legs to get to where I needed to be.
Once I did arrive, though, I was greete
d with a surprise that I would not soon forget. And one that I certainly could have done without.
“Lillian?” he said, raising his head from where it was buried in the program for the evening.
“Ash Bennett? What are you doing here?”
18. (Ash)
Feelings of utter shock coursed through my body as I looked at the woman who had rocked my world before I left on tour.
The two of us had experienced such a whirlwind romance after she photographed me for that magazine she worked for—Illusions, or something like that—that I thought myself in love with her. Who knows? I genuinely may have had been.
There were still so many regrets about everything and how it all ended, for sure. But I wasn’t expecting to be greeted with them so soon. But here she was, looking as beautiful as ever, radiating more confidence than I had ever seen her with, and I felt a tug at the heartstrings.
It was like…I was missing her.
Like I was missing her presence.
Like I wanted her back.
But those things were long past, and I knew it would be cruel to ask for a second chance, especially after I made out with someone else while on tour. Even if I was extremely drunk and out of my right mind. Even though it wasn’t technically my fault, I knew that I had to take more responsibility than just blaming it on the alcohol.
In a way, I willed it to happen. It was a way to excuse myself from—God, who knows.
Timidly, Lillian took her seat beside me.
She peered at me through a side glance, not wanting to look me in the eyes, I think. And I did just the same; we both looked away, beet red in the face.
“Ash, what are you doing here?” she asked when the silence became too much to bear. She was blushing. Her words were a bit stuttered.
“I might ask you the same thing,” I replied, not being able to contain my instinct to give her a little flirty wink but then, slumping back into my seat as I realized my wrong move.
God, it felt like my mask was up all over again, like nothing had ever truly happened between us. The feeling of vulnerability crept up on me.
“I got the ticket as a gift,” she said, seeming almost a little defensive.
“My manager wanted me to gain some culture,” I said, reclining back a bit, in my seat.
I continued eyeing her out of the corner of my vision, trying to drink her in.
“He says some outside influences might be good. Rest of the band is scattered around; they couldn’t get us seats together.” I made a gesture to the rest of the theater as way of explanation, and Lillian looked around in response, as if she might be able to pinpoint them.
“Oh.” She was quiet then, sinking into her seat before forcing herself to sit up straight. She rolled her shoulders back and stared ahead, not making any more eye contact.
“So, how have you been?” I asked, not entirely ready to relinquish this opportunity for conversation just yet. “Photography been good?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Come on, where’s the Lillian I know?” I tried with a smile, but she shrugged it off, turning to me with a glare in her eyes.
“Ash, my trust in you, my ability to be myself around you, died the moment you decided to break it. And it’s gonna take a lot more than a few questions for things to get back to where they were, so I suggest you stop.”
I was quiet. I knew better than to keep pressing. I could tell she was still hurt from our past relationship, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at this moment either. Her coming back into my life so suddenly was not expected, especially not at a place like this.
The announcer in front of the stage started speaking. The lights dimmed to reveal just the stage, and the spotlight became the center of attention. The crowd drew quiet, along with Lillian and me.
She sighed. “I don’t know, Ash,” under her breath. “The things that happened between us. I want to move on from them. I think it’s best for both of us.”
“I understand,” I said, leaning into her.
The smell of her perfume brought back fond memories. I drew back before I could give way to any unwelcome flashbacks but couldn’t stop the instant connection I was feeling.
Her reply was so quiet that I almost didn’t quite catch it. But there it was, and it was likely to haunt any dreams I’d be having for a long while. “I’m letting you go, Ash.”
With that—the show began. And we sat in silence, alone, ex-lovers, strangers again.
That same night, right after the theatre, I attended an after-party in a sort of half-blur. I couldn’t believe the chances of sitting right next to my past lover, in the most unexpected place—at a time like this, when the tour had just ended. I had more spare time on my hands. And not to mention, I was now back in New York.
I always believed in ‘fate’ since I made my big break during a small underground concert in The Bronx. I thought that Lillian was going to be out of my life forever, and yet—there she was, still existing, still a part of my orbit somehow. At a downtown club somewhere, surrounded by dancing people and smoke, I couldn’t help but be deep in my thoughts. Why? Why now?
I couldn’t shake the fact that serendipity had come and bit me in the ass, and maybe I was just about to let it fly by me. I was shooting himself in the foot for not taking the chance to re-connect with my past lover. There was a huge moment of insane regret. I couldn’t think straight, and the alcohol mixed with other unknown substances was anything but helpful.
I grabbed my phone and thought I would call in a favor…
Hey, man, I need your help.
19. (Lillian)
I was one of the only two people that were allowed to message Sebastian this late at night. It was me and Rebecca.
Ash was at the ballet. They sat him next to me.
Did someone do that on purpose? he texted back.
No, it was just a coincidence.
Some coincidence.
Right? Haha
He replied with, Do you need me to come over?
Isn’t it late?
It’s fine; I’ll just drive over in my pajamas.
It’s okay. I don’t want to bother you.
No, Lillian, you’d never bother me. I can tell this is affecting you. Now; am I coming to you, or are you coming to me?
I shuddered at the power in his words, trying to ignore the undeniable attraction I felt deep in my bones. I had to admit, it would be nice to be with my best friend right now. I wanted nothing more than just to be distracted, but Rebecca was asleep.
I would normally play with Coby, our cat, but he was currently sleeping next to Rebecca, and I didn’t want to disturb either of them. So, I’d take Sebastian up on his offer as it was the next best thing. That being, of course, to go over to his place.
Let me get changed into some PJs. Can you call a car for me?
Of course.
The reply came in almost instantly, and I smiled to myself as I headed to my room to get changed. Despite all the nervous energy that was boiling up inside of me, I found myself almost falling asleep on the ride over to Sebastian’s.
A small hint of my feelings drifted off to another cosmos, and I almost felt guilty. I was on my way to Sebastian’s apartment, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder, “What if?” What if—with another guy.
A couple of minutes later and I had arrived at my destination. There he was—Sebastian was standing in front of the building in a cotton shirt and sweatpants, looking ever the vision with his arms crossed. He smiled as he saw me, thanking the driver when I got out of the car.
As the driver drove away, he hugged me into his chest, and I took in a large whiff of his soap—a pine something, a more sophisticated version of what he used as a teenager.
“You doing okay?” he asked, pulling away for a moment.
“Of course, just a little mad at myself,” I said. “It’s not like anything happened.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean that it can’t affect you.”
We headed on inside, taking the elevator up to his apartment. I shivered as I realized that this was the first time I had been alone with Sebastian since everything had happened.
When we arrived inside, Sebastian turned to me and said, “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t really think that far ahead.”
“I mean, we could talk about it if you want, or just watch a movie until we fall asleep.”
“That sounds nice,” I replied, making my way over to the couch.
We eventually settled on some classic action movie before settling into the couch. I was pleased to have the distraction. But I also couldn’t help but be distracted in other ways. A little part of me kept revisiting old memories. Flashbacks ran involuntarily through my mind. Whispers of I’ll see you again and the vision of two hands letting go of each other, along with a marathon of past conversations, and a glimpse of his eyes—and then, that sweet, sweet smell of cologne. I really couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t Sebastian’s smell…it was Ash’s.
As we drifted closer to sleep, I ended up leaning on Sebastian, and even in that state of half-consciousness, I was aware of it, and what it was doing to my body. And I began to wonder, for the first time in a long time, if I wanted things to happen again, if I was willing to give Sebastian a third chance. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling of other outcomes. If in another parallel universe, where things could be different, maybe I didn’t have to make such a difficult choice.
I wasn’t at all surprised when the next issue of Illusions came out and my story did incredibly well. I texted Sebastian, telling him about the success and that my editor was hinting me at a promotion. He just told me congratulations, and I was surprised when he didn’t offer to take me out to dinner like he usually did.