Never Enough

by Alexandra Caluen

  A few minutes later the P.A. clicked on, and they heard Rory’s voice.

  “Good evening everyone. Thanks for joining us here at Chrome for the Underground Cabaret Dance Theater, presenting Mating Dance: Spy Games.

  Listen up. If you think you saw Victor Garcia and Andy Martin performing the Assassins’ Tango in Act I, you were correct. If you are excited about it, so are we. Be advised that you will get tossed out of here a lot earlier than they will, so please don’t hang around trying to see them. Now settle down and get ready to enjoy Act II, with more great dancing from the Underground Cabaret. Five minutes to Act II. Thank you.” The P.A. clicked off. The Act II performers started coming into the green room. There was a frenzy of costume and last-minute makeup. Andy and Victor tried to make themselves small. Nobody acted like they were in the way.

  Then it was on with the show. They watched the performances again on the monitor, glad to be comfortable and fed and among friends. They’d all

  seen each other at dress rehearsal, where they’d had a chance to really talk.

  There had been considerable comment on Victor’s footwear as well as on Andy’s entire costume. “These folks did a great job not spoilering the whole thing,” Victor said softly, as the closing performance was on stage. “Wow, did you see that lift? How did I miss that at dress? Holy fuck.”

  “That Anya.” Andy was watching with enjoyment and respect. “She is fearless with Ricky. God I love that song. I love all these songs.”

  “Want to dance them all with me again?” Victor was smiling. Andy was humming along with k.d. lang on ‘Surrender,’ and only gave him a sidelong smile and a nod. After the performance was over, Anya and Ricky took their bows. Rory called the rest of the Act II performers up on stage for the curtain call. There was another flurry of activity in the green room as people changed clothes and collected gear. Finally everyone was gone except Victor, Andy, and Dmitri.

  “Hey there,” Andy said. “I would have said hi earlier but you were in the zone.”

  Dmitri said, “Is good. Vince is here tonight, he tells me to take care with his wife.” Victor snorted. Dmitri had taught Vince almost everything he knew, as Vince would have been the first to admit. “Your back is good?”

  “How did you know my back was messed up? Okay, right. Yes, it’s fine.

  Andy had me in therapy the past ten days.”

  “Jim will record tomorrow?”

  Andy nodded. “We told him how the intro is set up, so I’m not sure where he’s placing the camera. But whatever.” He shrugged. They’d danced it through at home on video several times, though not in full costume.

  Somebody tonight had surely taken the routine on a phone as soon as they saw what was going on. In fact, now that he thought about it, Dana or Patrick might have. He knew they were both here, and both of them knew what was happening.

  “You looked,” Dmitri said, then paused. He touched Andy’s shoulder lightly. “Most beautiful I have seen you dance. Victor, excellent. You are very brave. I would not.” He seemed to shudder at the very idea.

  Victor was charmed. “Thanks, Dmitri. That means a lot, coming from you. Is Patrick here tonight?”

  Dmitri nodded. “I go now. You have security?”

  Victor and Andy exchanged a glance; everybody seemed to be asking that. They wondered what it was like outside the club. “Yes. We won’t head out without bodyguards,” Andy said. “Say hi to the king for us.” Dmitri almost smiled. He nodded again, and went away.

  They didn’t want to hang around too long. The club was open for another hour or more, and whatever was happening outside would probably still be happening then. Might even be worse. After a little dithering, Andy opened a FaceTime call with Rory. She answered right away. “Hi cherubim. Are you guys still at Chrome?”

  “Yes we are. I see you’re still hiding in the green room.”

  “We’re not sure what to do. We can ping our security guy to come and help make a path. Is that going to be enough?”

  “Should be, especially if Terry helps. Outside looks like the fucking Oscars. There are news vans, paparazzi, and what looks like two busloads of tourist celebrity hounds. It’s a mess. What do you want to do?”

  “What do you think, catnip. Go on out and deal with it? If we’ve got Terry and Julio and our guy? We can feed the beast for five minutes, our car could be right there.”

  “That’s fine. Rory, did you get that?”

  “Got it. I’ll ping the man in charge. Get your shit together.” She disconnected. They texted their driver, assembled themselves, and went out to the stage door. It opened a minute later and Terry did a ‘let’s go’ thing with his head. Sam and Tomás were there again, and with those three imposing men as well as their escort, they got upstairs without delay.

  Outside, Julio and their driver were keeping a space clear in front of the door. There was a surge of reporters. Andy and Victor answered a few questions, declining to confirm or deny that they had performed at all, much less what they had done, or whether they would be back the following night.

  Somebody finally asked Victor about ‘Countdown 3’ and he said, “I’m told we should be seeing the rough cut in early January. I’m looking forward to it.

  Jonathan and Loretta and I had a great time making it.”

  “When will it be released?”

  “As far as I know, the plan is for a May release. You’d want to confirm that with the studio.”

  “What are you doing till then?”

  “Being married,” he said with a smile. “Andy and I have never had a whole lot of time to just be married. So that’s what we’re doing. And thanks everybody for coming out, but we need to get home now.” Their small phalanx of guards was still with them, so their path to the car was unimpeded.

  Once the doors were closed they looked at each other and both said, “Whew.”

  Then Victor said, “I was not expecting that.”

  “You’re a movie star, I keep telling you.” Andy grinned at the snort from the front seat. “Also we did something tonight that’s going to be considered scandalous in some quarters, so.” He shrugged. “Hope it doesn’t fuck you up with the ‘Countdown’ people.”

  “It’s not like they don’t know we’re married. That we dance together.

  That you occasionally dance in drag.”

  Andy was snickering. “That’s true. ‘Mein Herr’ went up a long time ago and they didn’t call Raquel to say hey, you know what, we decided not to do that whole boat captain thing. Tell Mr. Martin to take his fishnets and fuck off.” Definitely a laugh from the front seat. “Hey guys? Are we going to have you again tomorrow? Because you were great tonight. We really appreciate it.”

  “We can request the duty tomorrow, sir. Happy to.”

  “Awesome, thank you.”

  After they got home, it was a quick trip outside with Molly, a fast shower, and then a long and much-needed sleep for both of them. They did next to nothing on Monday aside from eat, stretch, and walk through the routine. They answered texts, looked at emails, did not go looking for bootleg video of their performance, and got themselves ready to do it again.

  This time there was a crowd at Chrome when they arrived. Julio and his squad met them at the car and walked them in. “It’s sold out,” Julio said.

  “Standing room only. We could stream it on the back wall and sell tickets if that wouldn’t totally fuck Hollywood Boulevard.”

  Victor said, “It’s fucked enough already. Jesus, it’s loud in here!” And it was packed. It took what felt like forever to get to the green room. Now that the secret was out, they figured it would simpler all around to base themselves there. There were certainly plenty of people to watch out for Andy when he went to take his position at the bar. Victor stood out of the way, watching him apply his makeup. “If you had told me ten years ago that I would find it unspeakably hot to watch the love of my life put on false

  eyelashes, I would have said you were loco.”

  “I
feel the same way,” said Vicky, in the next seat at the counter. “And when she takes them off it’s like, yeah baby, get naked.” Andy laughed.

  “Oops, sorry. No sex talk while applying eyeliner. You’re really good at that.”

  “Chorus boys have to do their own. It’s been a long time, but I guess you never really forget.” Andy checked the makeup, did a little work on his hair –

  slightly long, and carefully cut so he could replicate Cyd Charisse’s style -

  then stood up and went to his garment bag. “Okay everybody, avert your eyes unless you want to know everything about me.” He dropped his pants. Victor was leaning on the wall, watching the whole process as he had the night before. Watching his handsome husband turn into a beautiful almost-woman.

  It was mesmerizing. “Better get your shoes on, catnip.”

  A minute later they heard Rory. “Five minute warning. Five minutes to Act I.” They were both fully in costume. Checking each other, taking that opportunity for a last fond touch before they went out. “Two minutes.

  Beginners for Act I, please.”

  “That’s our cue, sweetheart.” Victor draped the cloak over Andy’s shoulders. They went out into the wing. Terry and their own escort were there to take Andy over to the bar. “Thanks guys.” Victor waited on stage behind the curtain. Listened to Rory make the announcement. The working light went off, and the curtain opened.

  Same as the night before, the spotlight hit Andy, sitting on a bar stool with his legs crossed and his elbows resting on the bar top behind him. He opened up the cloak, revealing that sensational dress. Then, same as the night before, he straightened one long, long leg, pointing his foot at the ceiling before setting it down on the floor to begin slithering through the crowd.

  Victor hadn’t registered who gave him a hand up to the low stage the previous night. Now he saw it was Terry and Sam. Thanks guys, he thought.

  As soon as Andy was onstage they were both on the prowl, confronting each other, drawing embellishments on the floor with their feet. Quick, quick and slow. A tap, a flick, a spin. When he had Andy in hold, he said “I love you”

  almost soundlessly. Andy didn’t break character, didn’t quite smile, but spoke the same words. Then the fight was on.

  They held their closing position for a few seconds. It was fairly dramatic.

  Victor was down on one knee with Andy’s upper back across the other thigh.

  Andy’s ankles were neatly crossed and his skirt had fallen away to show the knife strapped to his downstage thigh. His gloved hand wasn’t on the knife, though, as it had been more than once during the routine. It was on Victor’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. After a moment they tuned in to the applause. Andy said, “God, I really want to plop my ass on this stage and sit here till you pull me up.”

  Victor said, “I feel like one shift of weight and I’m going to fall on my ass.” They both giggled. “We need help.”

  “Oh screw it.” Andy dropped his downstage hand to the floor and more-or-less sat down, folding his legs as elegantly as possible while extracting his upstage arm from around Victor’s waist. “How’s that.” They were both still giggling.

  Victor set a hand on Andy’s shoulder and got to his feet, teetering only slightly. “Fuck, how did we do this last night?”

  “I can’t remember. Give me a hand.” Andy was up on his feet and they were taking their bows. They were both cracking up when they got offstage.

  “What the fuck was that?” Rory was looking at them like they were insane. “That wasn’t how you ended it last night.”

  They both said, “It wasn’t?”

  “No! You did the split thing last night!”

  “Oh damn! We did! No wonder we couldn’t get out of it!” Andy was leaning on the panel, wheezing.

  “Oh shit.” Victor was laughing too hard to get more of a word out for a few seconds. “That was my fault. I took you down before you got your foot back. Jesus, we got lucky.”

  “They want you for another bow. Go take your bow. You complete lunatics.” They went out, they bowed (still giggling), they returned to the wing. Rory brought the stage lights down so Sam and Mateo could get in position for their number.

  As they headed to the green room, Victor was saying, “Were we late?

  Because I was like, there’s the peak in the music coming, have to hit it, go down now.”

  “I’m going to have to see the video. Jesus Christ. That was a damn good catch, honey. I didn’t even realize we did it wrong.”

  “Well, the way you had your legs, it looked so finished it didn’t even

  occur to me they were supposed to be some other way. Your back okay?”

  “My back is fine, how about yours.”

  “I’m good. Holy mother of shit.” They both cracked up again. Everyone in the green room was looking at them the same way Rory had.

  Paula Borodin held up her phone. “Somebody already posted your ending. That dude who won Dancing with the Stars a million times tweeted, I’ve done that drop with a dozen partners but never in spike-heeled platform boots, hashtag challenge accepted.” Victor laughed all over again and told her to get out on stage.

  They spent the rest of the show the same way as the night before, but this time there was the afterparty. The downstairs lounge was a much more controlled environment. They were hanging out at the bar with Rowena when Julio sent down a message to say that a reporter they knew had asked if she could have a word. “I’m going to go up and talk to Sherry,” Andy said.

  “She’ll be disappointed that I’m out of costume.”

  “Explain to her about the dance belt, the fishnets and the crotch snap.”

  “Pop Quiz viewers should know how we suffer for our art.” That was a semi-ironic reference to their dance fight on Tanith’s movie. This routine had produced some bruises too, but only on the outside. “Be back in a few minutes, sweetheart.”

  “Hey.”

  Andy turned back. “What?”

  “Kiss me.”

  Andy smiled. “Okay.” They took their time over it. “God, I love you.

  Tell me you don’t have any appointments tomorrow.”

  “My only appointment is with you. All day. I love you.” One more quick kiss and then Andy was heading upstairs.

  Sherry Martinez was actually inside. She had her little handheld camera on. “Mr. Martin, thanks for agreeing to speak with me.”

  It was a jolt, hearing that name. That name belonged to his father. Andy smiled professionally and said, “Sherry, this again? Call me Andy. Did you see the show?”

  “Yes I did, I had my ticket a month ago. And I’m glad I did because I sure wouldn’t have been able to get one if I’d waited till the last minute. That was a spectacular performance. How long have you and Mr. Garcia been

  working on it?”

  “We started the choreography with Dmitri Vasko last April.”

  “Wow!”

  “Well, Victor was going on location in May, I was joining him in June, and we weren’t expecting to be back in town until August. We wanted to do this number as well as the one we did in September.”

  “I saw that too, but I didn’t get a chance to speak with you. That music has been used here before, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes, about three and a half years ago for this brutal apache number.

  Ricky Castillo and Anya Ivanova. They performed tonight too.”

  “Those of us who are Underground Cabaret fans really love how so many performers stay with the company. I know I personally get very invested.”

  “Well, you may be interested to know that Vince Connor and Michelle Matsumoto are going up for the World Smooth Championship at the Ohio Star Ball next weekend. Some Cabaret fans may remember Vince made his performance debut here eight years ago.”

  “Oh my God, yes. Dance fans, I’ll give you the title of that number in a second. Andy, when we spoke earlier this year you told me you wanted to make this a good dance year. Since then you’ve don
e your wonderful pas de deux with Zach Tyler, and now these two fantastic routines with Victor.

  What’s next?”

  “We’re working on something,” he said with a smile. “You’ll be the first to know.”

  “Thanks so much, Andy. I’ll let you go now. Tell Victor he’s my hero for doing that in those shoes.”

  “Mine too! If anyone wants some of those, go to Molest Shoes, right down the road here in Hollywood. Ask for Rowena.” Andy waved to the camera and went back downstairs.

  Victor woke up slowly. The room was fairly bright; it had to be at least eight o’clock. Andy was speaking in a low voice, very close. Victor turned his head. Andy had Molly in his arms. “Who’s a cuddly girl. Yes you’re my very best Molly. Is it time to take you to the beach again? Let you get all filthy like a real dog?” He glanced over at Victor and smiled. “Hi catnip. I’ve

  already taken her out and made coffee.”

  “Your ability to not sleep constantly amazes me.” Victor stretched. “Is it a day for the beach? If we go to the beach, we have a great excuse to not be online.”

  “That’s very true.” Andy accepted a kiss from his husband, then watched him go into the bathroom. “He has a cute little ass, doesn’t he Molly.”

  “I heard that. Whoa, I didn’t realize it was so late.” When Victor returned with a cup of coffee, he picked up his phone from the nightstand.

  “Missed a call from John.”

  “Give him a call. We have the whole day to ourselves.”

  Victor leaned over for another kiss first. Drank some elixir of life, and then dialed. The receiving phone rang three times before John picked up.

  “Hey John, I saw that you called. Everything okay? Glad to hear it. Yeah, you know what, we’re pretty much done for the year. Prep work now for that concert next spring, but otherwise all that’s really firm is going over to Miami to see Eva. Leaving on the eighteenth.” He listened for a minute.

  “This last thing? Well, I should probably warn you. It was a little bit out there.” A snort. “Andy danced it in full drag. Yeah, a dress. Oh, he looked amazing. Well, you know I think he always does.” A sidelong glance at his husband. “Uh-huh. High heels. Yeah that was a concern.” He snickered.