And I’m really enjoying the rush of moving my body with a freedom I didn’t know I could. I feel light as air, and everything seems almost natural to me. I had no idea that I could move the way I am. I can see in Margot’s eyes as we dance closer together, she’s surprised too.
When we dance across the stage to each other we both go back to back, dancing up and down in surprising synchronicity for two people making this up on the fly. “We are so doing this again!” she says where only I can hear.
“Totally!” I agree with her. I’m on top of the world with the level of exhilaration, and we both turn back and tear off our flimsy tops.
That’s when I get a good look at the audience, and I can’t believe how far my excitement drops.
The instant I see Gian, my heart plummets to my stomach and I yelp a little. But I keep dancing.
The man he’s with is dressed in leather and dark jeans. He looks strange next to Gian, who's always wearing an immaculate expensive suit. I can tell by Gian’s face that he’s not thrilled with what he’s seeing, which now that I’ve already thrown off my top, is actually quite a bit. I’m spilling out of this bra in a way that I thought I’d be nervous about. Now, the only thing making me nervous is that I’m so bare in front of so many people while Gian’s eyes are blazing with what I know is not happiness.
The man with him smacks him against the arm but Gian looks like if he was holding a glass, it would break in his hands. When the song ends, I go backstage and I’m not surprised when Gian is back there in a few seconds.
“What the hell are you doing? What are you wearing? Or not wearing,” he says, throwing my shirt at me.
I felt timid and upset before, my stomach uneasy, but when he tosses the shirt, I feel something else entirely.
“I was having a good time with a friend, wearing things that you actually bought me or had Margot buy me. I thought I was a free woman and you didn’t own me? I didn’t even leave your palace, your highness, so what’s the problem?” I'm shocked by my own words, but I mean them.
I mean them because I realize that I felt so much better about myself to look so good and have others think I did. It's stupid, perhaps, but the whole reason I went to Margot and wanted the makeover I got was because I wanted to look hot enough to be on Gian’s arm. “I can’t believe you’re mad that I’m actually looking the part of someone that you’d sleep with. You’ve probably slept with everyone who dances here,” I say, and I know that Gian has hinted that he doesn’t actually sleep around like his reputation says, but how do I really know that? I mean, I don’t know whatever it was that Margot doesn’t want to tell me.
“What?” Gian is stunned. I can tell he wasn’t expecting what I just said.
“You told me yourself that I wasn’t dressed the part for seducing you. Maybe I didn’t want my looks to come down to luck anymore,” I say, looking away.
“Come to the penthouse now, let’s not do this here,” Gian says. I’m shocked because I thought he was angry, but there’s something in his voice that seems more hurt than angry.
Because of that, my own response is quieter than I expected. All my anger gets buried when I think Gian is hurt. I want this situation diffused. “I’ll say goodbye to Margot, then we’ll go,” I say.
Gian nods and we walk out together. I put my shirt back on and I see the man that Gian was with is grinning wide at me when he sees me.
“Damn good upgrade, Sandoval,” the man says.
Gian bristles at the words and I’m suddenly so ready to be up and out of here.
“Mr. Sandoval, we were just having fun-“ Margot says, talking so quickly.
I don’t want Gian to be mad at her, and to his credit, he smiles and shakes his head. “No worries, Margot,” he says, but the words are dismissive. I know Gian wants to get up to the penthouse and be alone more than anything.
I can’t say I disagree, though I’m still frustrated. I don’t want to argue more but I know that I can’t just ignore Gian’s reaction to what is honestly not that big of a deal. I just want this whole night to be over with.
Tonight was supposed to end without him because he’d be working late … but I get the feeling he won’t be leaving the penthouse tonight after we get up there.
Gian
“I only did any of this,” Lucy waves her hand down her body to indicate the clothes she’s wearing, the hair, the makeup, “because you basically had Margot load up a whole new me in those bags the night after. I'm trying new things because my life is so completely different than it was all of five minutes ago. You sa
y I’m not a prisoner, so then when I try to figure out my life, you get mad at me. How am I supposed to know what to do?”
Shit. Well I stepped in it. “Okay, so I don’t like the idea of you looking so damn hot when other people are going to see you, but I don’t want to keep you from whatever it is that you want to do, no matter what it be. And I never needed you to change. I love everything about you no matter what you’re wearing or if you’re made up, dressed down…” Fuck I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here, and I just want her to know that I’m sorry. That I’m crazy about her.
I know that Lucy is just trying to find her footing, but I can’t pretend like her words didn’t hurt me a little. The idea that I found her somehow not attractive enough isn’t just false, but it just reflects the god-awful parts about me that she has all wrong.
Not as if I can reach across and grab her face and tell her, hey, princess, there are plenty of bad things about me but those in particular aren’t right.
Well, I could, but that doesn’t exactly help either of our situations.
I know that the best thing that I can do is play the part of the consummate charmer. I have to make my every move one to make her fall deeper into my madness, to buy into the notion that she's starting to have that I might be some decent kind of man.