by M Field
She pouts her bottom lip cheekily and stares at my fingers.
“Bea, you have always been special to me. From playing G.I. Joe with your Barbies to discussing future possibilities under the stars. I knew when I was a teenager how deeply I felt for you. How I spent many years fighting it, also. I know we’re just starting out …” I continue to unbutton as I watch her eyes flicker from my eyes to my chest but when I reach the final button, I hold it closed. “But you are my forever, Bea. You were destined to be mine. Even if we took forever to get here, I wouldn’t change a thing. We weren’t ready before, but we are ready now. Every inch of my soul was born to love you. I’d travel through hell to get to you. You are my paradise.”
My fingers begin to open my shirt slowly and she steps forward and replaces my hands with hers. Holding the coarse material, she slides it away from my chest and stares at the cursive writing. From my left pec straight down to my abdomen, the words Paradiso XXXIII145 are written in the same cursive font as her tattoo. She looks at it closely, and asks, “Is that a quote?”
I smile and cup her cheek in my hand.
“Yes, Bea. It’s the reference that points to your quote. Just on … me.”
Her eyes widen as a smile spreads across her face. “You got a tatt … like mine?”
I kiss her softly as I whisper, “The love that moves the sun and the other stars. What I feel for you transcends that, Bea, past the moon and those stars. I love you.”
Her eyes well with tears and her lips tremble and she whispers, “Ti amo, Alex. I love you so much.”
I pull her face into mine and kiss her with the intensity that my heart feels for her. I want to mark her forever. She is my star, my moon, and my life.
My lips ease back as I mutter, “There’s another one I need to show you.”
She slaps her hands against her cheeks as I wink at her and watch her face light up in shock.
“What?” she shrieks.
I grab my left wrist and begin to unbutton and roll up my shirt.
“This one also has significant meaning,” I tell her. As my sleeve folds up, the gauze covering it obscures the tattoo. I peel it open at the side and begin to unravel it. “You were marked a long time ago, Bea. I cannot forgive myself for never stopping what happened, but I have this— “ I point to my wrist, “—where I can carry you with me. We’ve both changed from then, and this is my symbol of that. I can carry you with me everywhere.”
On my wrist, I have a bold B tattooed in the same place that her scar would be, with a blue star and blue moon inside the straight-sided edge.
She points to my wrist and asks, “Why blue?”
“Your eyes.” I smile. Tears flow down her cheeks as she lightly reaches for my wrist. Ever so delicately, she raises it to her face and lays a feathered kiss on it.
“I can’t believe you did this for me,” she sniffs.
“I’d do anything for you, Bea. Do you believe me now? Believe in us?”
Looking into my eyes, she tells me, “Without a doubt, Alex. You are my forever, too.” Grinning, she holds up her left wrist and says, “Tomorrow, I’m going to that tattoo shop and getting an A over my scar. I want you everywhere with me, too.”
I wrap her in my arms and tilt my head down to kiss her.
“My grandpa was right,” I whisper against her lips.
“What do you mean?” She smiles, clinging to my waist.
“He said that one day I’d find someone to create memories with and cherish. That’s you. I’m going to put your photo next to my speedometer, too. Just like he did with Gran.”
Her lips fuse against mine in a passionate dance that I don’t ever want to end. Under our tree, my love and my life feel complete. I can’t wait to start building new memories with her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“It was my sight which was growing stronger
As I was looking; so what looked like one
Worked on me as I myself changed”
Paradiso XXXIII; lines 115–118
Trice
A month later
Turning the key into the lock, I lift my duffle further onto my shoulder before using my right foot to tap the door open. Today’s dance class had been brutal. There is one more week until the final performances, and I cannot wait. I was tired of the discussions about our potential scouts coming and where we would go. When Cory talked about it, I almost, almost felt bad about my decision. The director? Not a chance in hell. After I had returned from visiting Nonna, he’d made a point of telling me at almost every class for a fortnight how much I had regressed.
Despite me landing the positions that others had the same trouble with most of the time, he just loved making me feel like shit. Arsehole. I am not looking forward to tomorrow’s lesson.
Saturday, we will showcase the result of our year-long achievements, and then hopefully, if all the stars align, we’ll be offered roles in various theatre and dance companies. This is the moment where my future will be mapped out. Rather than feel excited for it, I’m oddly resentful. My decision will see me turning away from this path and hopefully onto a newer, more vibrant one. I know I will miss the theatre itself, but in the long run, I have to do what will make me happy. Not what my pre-disposed notions of synthetic happiness entail.
Strolling into the apartment, I see Robbie in the lounge playing one of the Call of Duty games,
but I don’t know which one. They all look the same to me.
“Tough day, bro?”
He continues to stare at the TV screen while muttering, “Nah, just felt like shooting shit.”
Mmm, okay … weirdo.
“Oh, okay … anyway …” I look around and then turning to glance behind me, I ask, “Where’s Alex?”
As it was past five pm, he was due home any moment.
“He’s in the shower,” Robbie replies, still transfixed to the screen. “He got home about ten minutes ago.”
I can’t help but smiling as a plan formulates in my head.
“Thanks, hitman.” Ruffling his hair, I jump back before his arm swings out at me.
“Piss off! You almost made me lose my shot!” He laughs.
I giggle as I walk away. That’s what you get for being antisocial.
Now that he’s mentioned it, I can hear the shower running clearly. I dump my duffle just outside the bathroom door and reach out and turn the handle. The room is clogged up in a light fog; once again, he’s left the bathroom fan off. Steam from his shower lifts and coats the room in a wet mist. I reach out and flick the fan on and as it begins to twirl, I quickly undress.
Alex is behind the shower door, rubbing soap across his toned body. A body that since we’ve been together, I have mapped out personally-and I love it. Most days we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other, much to Robbie’s disgust.
I quietly kick my clothes to the side and pull out my tiresome bun. Shaking my hair loose, I stand for a moment and watch him. His eyes are closed as he stands directly under the water while his arms are linked across his shoulders, soaping up his chest and abdomen. I love every inch of him. I lick my lips and open the door.
“Hey there,” I drawl. “What’s a hot guy like you doing at a place like this?”
Smiling, he opens his eyes and looks at my naked body from my toes to my eyes. His eyes have heated and he slowly says, “Waiting for you to come and waste water with me.”
I run my eyes up and down his body and notice he is indeed ready for me to waste that water.
“With pleasure.”
We spend a good amount of time under the water spray, soaping each other up and exploring each other’s bodies. Alex is the balm to my stressful day. I wash the make-up from my wrist that covers my tattoo and enjoy the ministrations of Alex’s hands on my skin. Things are just about to get heated until we hear Robbie at the door,
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, guys! I’m home. Can we tone down the giggling? Even the armies I am fighting against can’t mask the sex noises. Gross.�
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I burst out laughing at his pouting. I hadn’t even realised what sounds I was making. Automatically, I can’t help begin getting ideas. Alex beats me to it as he then taps my shoulder to get my attention and tips his head back and yells, “Oh! Yes! Bea, like that! Yes! Yes!”
I slap his shoulder and continue to laugh, while we hear mutterings of, “Shut the fuck up!” outside the door. “Seriously guys, do I need to find another apartment?”
We turn the water off and I step out and reach for two towels.
“This is so funny.” I giggle.
I begin drying myself and turn around to see Alex looking at me pensively.
“Robbie will stay here, but maybe you and I could … you know, find our own place?”
I pause with the towel and stare back him. My lips press together and I think about his idea.
“Really? But isn’t that a bit soon?”
He cocks his head at me and points to his abdomen and then his wrist. “Well, if it is then
these have definitely thrashed that idea.”
Yes, he’s right. Staring down as my left wrist, I trace the A that I got tattooed. I smile wide and drop the towel and jump into his arms. “Yes! Alex, let’s get our own place! We can have showers together all the time!”
I crush my lips against his as he laughs. Our lips are moving in sync with a kiss showing meaning for the promise of our future.
“Imagine,” Alex whispers between kisses. “We’d never have any annoying people outside the bathroom door. We could do it—anywhere!”
I definitely love the sound of that.
“Moving furniture is fun!” I sing, tracing his bottom lip with my tongue. The thought of unlimited access to Alex makes me want to pack immediately. Our lovey-dovey moment, however, is partially ruined by Robbie’s cry through the door of, “Great idea, Alex!”
Alex’s grip on my hips tightens in frustration and he sighs against my lips. Looking over my shoulder, he bellows, “Okay Robbie, you made your point. Get the fuck away from the door before I really give you something to cringe about. Your sister is currently naked, so—” Alex uses that moment to lean in to kiss me again.
“Got the message, and you, sir, are an arsehole,” Robbie snarks. I can’t help but laugh as I tighten my grip around Alex’s shoulders and we resume kissing. We have all the time in the world to keep getting to know each other and I don’t want to miss a moment.
* * * * *
It is Robbie’s turn to cook, so a while later we are all in the lounge room on the couch eating pasta while chatting about our days. Robbie’s club has been receiving some top-secret remodelling and each day he just tells us snippets of what is going on. So far, all I know is that it’s a club with a back room, stage, and bar. He likes to tell me, “Don’t worry Tricky Trice, the back room is for you.”
“So.” Alex munches through a mouth full of pasta. “Emerald Vixen?” His eyes light up, as a cheeky grin forms on his face. Robbie glares at him and picks up his bowl.
“Shouldn’t burlesque bars be all red or something? Why, that name?”
Robbie is too busy shovelling food into his mouth to respond straight away. It’s kinda gross when guys eat out of a bowl like horses.
“No, Burlesque clubs can be whatever you want. I just … liked the name.”
Alex winks at me, and then glances over at Robbie. “So there’s not a muse for your place? You just like the colour?”
Robbie puts his bowl down on the floor and takes a swig of his beer, looking away. “Nope. It’s just a name.”
I don’t buy it. Robbie isn’t making eye contact and Alex is stirring him. I’m curious, too. Before I can start my interrogation, Alex leans forward and pesters him with, “You have never been into the theatre or any type of thing like this. So you have no inspiration for the name.” He clucks his tongue, “It’s bullshit.”
Robbie glares at Alex and mutters, “Just drop it. I just liked the name. Besides, I saw the opportunity and I took it.”
Looking at me, Robbie’s eyebrows quirk as he asks, “You backing out, Trice?”
I shake my head vigorously. After today’s lesson, this decision was made even clearer.
“Definitely not. Cannot wait to make a start.”
We continue eating our dinner until the doorbell rings. Robbie jumps up and strolls to the door and I immediately recognise Hazel’s voice on the other side. She walks into the lounge, red-cheeked from the wind outside, and her curls are unruly under her cap.
“Hey guys.” She smiles, walking around the couch to sit next to me. Peering into my bowl, her lips purse in appreciation. “Pasta, yum!”
I wink and finish up the last few pieces of penne. Tilting my chin to the kitchen, I offer her some but she declines.
“No thanks, hon, I already ate. Plus, I want to eat dessert later so I don’t want to over-indulge now. I need the room!”
Earlier that week, we had made plans to catch up and head to the new restaurant around the corner to try their cake. I had heard from Regan that it was pretty cool, so we were looking forward to it.
Robbie shuffles in his seat on the couch near us, and I can’t help but glance at him a few times; he is fidgeting with his hands while making subtle glances at Hazel. I smile, bursting to give him shit for his not-so-subtle crush, but I don’t want to embarrass Hazel. Ever since that night when I thought something was up, both parties have been like an iron fortress.
“Um, Trice, has Robbie asked you yet?”
I look back from Robbie with a concerned expression upon my face. “Asked me about what?”
I shuffle in my seat, placing my bowl on the coffee table and tucking my feet under me. Robbie nods to Hazel before turning to face me.
“Trice, remember how I had half an act organised that I wanted you to join? You know, when you weren’t out the back.”
“Yeah …” I side glance at Hazel and then raise my eyebrow.
“Well …” He clears his throat. “I thought you could join … Hazel.”
“Robbie asked me a while back. Then when he said you were unhappy …. he just ... suggested that maybe we could do something … out the front? I know you’ll have the back room, too.” Hazel grips her hands together, biting her lip as she watches me.
I can’t help but blink at her. Robbie has offered me the back room as a studio to teach in. I haven’t worked out the finer details or the age group yet, but it feels right. Part of me wants to offer up classes to older women for a bit of fun. It would bring in a crowd, but the setup needs adjustment. What Hazel is asking, though, confuses me. Isn’t she going to be an actress? “What do you mean?”
She licks her bottom lip before continuing. “I mean, we could be a duo act in the burlesque club. Friday and Saturday nights we could sing and dance.”
My chest feels fluttery as my mind works over her idea.
“Us? Burlesque? As in, hot outfits and cute routines?”
“Yeah,” she says. “It’s not too hard, your voice isn’t half bad, and we could really make it work.”
“What about your career in the theatre?”
“I changed my mind, Trice. I wasn’t happy, either.” She blinks rapidly while staring at me.
I don’t have to second guess. I’m in.
“Honey, sign me up!”
Hazel squeals and launches herself into my arms. “I am so excited,” she sings. “This is going to be so much fun! I’ve even talked to Trinity about making our corsets and other outfits!”
“Oh, my God!” I exclaim. “That is awesome! She will love doing that.”
I glance over to Robbie to see the big smile on his face. I wink at him and he winks back. My future suddenly feels fresher, and I can’t wait.
So, like that, our duo is formed.
* * * * *
The next day, I am a bundle of nerves during our performance practise. I had dreamt about different dance routines and scenarios that the duo with Hazel could bring. It had been a long time since I’d felt
any relief or happiness over my future. I wanted out from under the hateful eye of the dickhead director. It would be Hazel and me against the world, with the help of Trinity to make us look hot while doing it. Suffice to say, I lost a lot of sleep chatting to Alex about it while filling my mind with various ideas. I could not wait.
Currently in class, whilst daydreaming, I practice my various dances, but my other duo routine with Josh manages to get more airtime than the other dances that I need to practise. My fatigue is beginning to show, and I need to regain my composure.
“So, is Alex coming on Saturday? And by coming, I mean to the concert; get your mind out of the gutter,” Josh quips while stepping out the last part of the song.
“Yeah, and he’s pretty excited and overprotective. I showed him some of the costumes, though, and he got a little alpha. On one hand, he was thrilled to watch me, and on the other he wasn’t thrilled at how little I was wearing.” I can’t help but chuckle. “I had to keep reminding him the times of the songs; three minutes, four minutes thirty seconds, as well as the others. That was roughly what our conversation consisted of.”
I wasn’t exaggerating, either. As hot as the lustful look was that he gave me when I held up a few costumes, it soon turned possessive when he clicked that I would not be dancing a mediocre dance to a mediocre audience.
“Does he know that you’re dancing very closely with me?” Josh asks as he twirls me around. “Yeah, he knows we are dancing, but I haven’t told him the extent of it. He tends to get overprotective.”
Josh laughs as he continues to count out steps with me. “He knows my preference for guys, right? I haven’t changed my mind. Will he punch me on Saturday?”
“Of course, he won’t. It wouldn’t matter if you were a married gay man, he’d still not appreciate you touching me,” I answer. “It’s fine now, though, as all I had to do was remind him how many sets of boobs he touches throughout the year for ‘work’,” I say, using my index fingers to emphasise his job. “And he shut up. So, I won!”
We continue working through the last steps of our dance before turning on the music and doing it properly. The beat and timing feels right and I’m grateful that we are in sync.