I returned my gaze to the movie, my pinky on the armrest between us twitching, touching his briefly.
Touch me, fool.
He pulled away from my touch to scrub his stubbled jaw. The small, unrequited gesture felt like whiplash. My need to break over that one, silly rejection overwhelmed me. I felt like I’d lost him unexpectedly and prematurely, ahead of time.
If only you’d practiced imagining him kicking you out a hundred more times, huh? a sarcastic voice inside me taunted.
“Have you watched Fight Club before?” I cleared my throat.
“Is this a joke? Do birds fly?” He threw a handful of M&M’s and popcorn into his mouth, chewing.
“Depends on the bird. Ostriches don’t.”
He turned to look at me. I could see him in my periphery, frowning, like I belonged in a mental institution.
Kiss me.
Claim me.
Show them I’m more than just the sitter.
Instead of voicing my dark, erotic, pathetic thoughts, I yawned and stood up, stretching.
“Restroom break. Will be back soon.”
“Now? Shit’s just about to go down.” Hunter’s eyes widened.
I chose the longer path, past the empty seats that weren’t occupied by Knight, Luna, and Hunter as an escape route.
“I saw Brad Pitt topless. That was the height of the movie for me. It can only go downhill from here,” I muttered to myself.
I slipped downstairs to the restroom. I didn’t need to pee, but I took the time to freshen up, wash my face, and stare at myself in the mirror. I wore a gray, off-shoulder dress and my checked Vans, paired with a denim jacket. Still comfortable, but not complete dudebro attire. Smoothing my orange hair with my fingers, I left the restroom. The idea of returning upstairs and facing more of Knight and Luna’s love, and Hunter’s aloofness, made me nearly violent. Besides, the place was allegedly haunted. There was so much to see.
I decided to take a stroll along the hallway. It was old and imperial, with dozens of golden lights glittering like diamonds everywhere you looked. Brown marble columns rose from the floor like trees. I stepped into the first floor of the auditorium, under the deck, where Hunter and his friends couldn’t see me. The arched ceiling and detailed decorations did something to my heart I couldn’t explain. It squeezed in pride—pride that I was a part of this city, a small part of this place’s history. I’ve been here, I thought. In a hundred years, or maybe two, when I’m long gone, someone else would see all this.
But now it was my turn to bask in this magic.
I ambled toward the stage, moving in the shadows, invisible to the rest of them. A quick glimpse upstairs confirmed that Knight and Luna were not in a condition to see anything. It looked like they were having sex under the slip of fabric from Luna’s flowery dress. She moved like a wave on top of Knight. Hunter’s eyes were still on the movie, cold and full of ire. I stumbled backstage, behind the screen, gliding my hand over every piece of furniture and prop. I guessed The Nutcracker was playing, because the stage equipment included white-and-red-striped swirly columns, an aeronautic balloon, and a Christmas tree. My hand halted on a simple wooden chair with a gown draped over it. I lifted the fabric and put it to my nose, breathing it in.
It smelled of sweat, polyester, and hairspray. I squeezed my eyes closed, knowing the movie playing on the giant screen hid me. I was completely protected.
Putting the gown back where it was, I picked up a piece of wrinkled paper on the seat that looked like it’d been read to death—a song, I realized.
His love was like the sun.
Even when it wasn’t there,
It didn’t mean it ceased to exist.
And even when his rays did not warm her skin.
He kept her universe alive.
And even when the night engulfed her in loneliness, when winter wrestled him out of her life.
She knew he would come back.
He always did.
Long after they said goodbye.
I clutched the paper to my chest. Bowing my head, I pressed my lips to the lyrics. God, what was happening to me?
I felt the paper snatched from my hands. My eyes popped open, and when I looked up, I saw Hunter, his eyes dead on mine.
I was the first one to break our gaze as I watched his fist clenching the paper, destroying it. I smiled sadly at the irony. Did that mean I was coming to terms with our fate? With our impending goodbye?
Hunter threw the balled paper behind his shoulder, erasing all the distance between us with one step. He was still in his work attire, pale gray suit with a silky, wine-red tie. He tilted my chin up with one finger. I slapped his hand away. I was irrationally angry with him and too scared to admit why, even to myself.