Chapter Text
|-Friday morning. The Gershwin Theater, 222 West 51st Street, Manhattan, New York-|
I'm here... a bit earlier than I should be. Okay, more like a few hours earlier than I should be. It's nine. Brouillard and Randy don't come until ten. Even then, we don't start rehearsing with the choreography until eleven. I'm... surprised that I even have energy at all, considering how I didn't really get a good amount of sleep last night. I know why. It was another fantasy. Almost exactly the same as the one my mind ran to Wednesday night. Virtually identical save for the context. No lipstick. Rather... a movie.
In my apartment. Just thinking back on it is enough to replay the scene in my mind. Jū fun Jordan watakushi denwa suru koto ni shi ta san-nin no megami ni kansha shimasu. Watakushi wa kanojo nashi de na o suru ka wakara nai... (Thank the three goddesses that Jordan decided to call me ten minutes ago. I don't know what I'd do without her...)
"Look at you. All prim and proper and up at a good time." She says, teasing me for my history of waking up late.
"Excuse me?" I say in response, taken aback by the statement.
"Oh come on, Shichi. Every tall glass of water needs her beauty sleep, you know. But never-mind that. You legit do need to get out more." Is the next thing I hear from her, watching as she does her nails on the video call. She's always so meticulous about them. Wanting them to be just glossy enough. And always in pristine condition. I never quite understood that part.
"I do get out, thank you very much." I say, showing off the faux contempt in my voice. All it does is make Jordan laugh.
"Girl, you know as well as I that is not true. Not with how much you've been working yourself. I'm surprised you had the time to talk, honestly." She says, laughter subsiding, revealing a more serious tone. Or was it? I still can't quite tell when she is teasing me or being serious. But I guess that's Tosen Jordan for you.
"It is, actually. Kati makes sure of that." I say as I give Brouillard's piece a once over, catching Jordan's ears perk up on my phone screen in my periphery. Des erreurs peuvent ou ne peuvent pas avoir étécommises... (Mistakes may or may not have been made...)
"Oh really? So you two are... like that?" She says, that teasing tone returning with a vengeance.
"No. We're not... It's not like that." I say in response, wanting to choose my next words carefully. "You know I swing one way and one way only."
That... That stung. Saying that. Out loud. But what else can I say? I'm no closer to understanding why I feel so attracted to Kati in that way. Nearly five months at this point, and no real progress. Maybe I should be honest. After all, I could always rely on Tosen. But at the same time... How could I say this? How could I convey what it is I am going through in a way she'll understand? Megami-tachi, tasukete kudasai... (Goddesses, please help me...) Thankfully, Jordan doesn't seem to press the topic. Though I get the feeling she is suspecting... something. Even as she becomes curious as to what it is I am holding.
"What's that?" She asks, pointing to her screen after finshing , presumably at the dress if she was actually here.
"Oh, this? This is for that fashion show next Wednesday." I reply, watching as she scrambles to her feet.
"OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD!SHOWME!SHOWME!SHOWME!" She starts, grabbing her phone in a joyous haze. "I want to see it!" I decide to indulge her. So I walk over to the music stand I've set my phone on and pick up the little black box. I then walk over to the piece, hearing Jordan 's giddy laughter as she processes what it is she is seeing. "Wow... that is very bridal. I thought this was suppossed to be spooky."
"It is. The designer, Brouillard, based it off of Chute de la Dame Blanche. It's an old ghost story from Québec City." I say, knowing that I have most likely confused Jordan.
"Québec City? All the way in France?" sigh... On recommence... (Here we go again...)
"No, no... Québec City is in Canada. You know, in Québec." I respond, surprised that her geography skills have not improved in the years since we graduated. The more things change... dot dot dot...
"Canada? But it's French? They speak French?" She then says, still not knowing a lot about history either.
"Jordan... The first European settlers in Canada were French. I would know. Père est Québécois. (Père is Québécois.) His family are descended from French fur traders who settled what is now in Trois- Rivières during the 17th century." I start saying, taking in the silence from Jordan 's end. Seems she is processing what I've just said. Or rather, making an attempt to process what I just said.
"So... where is he from?" She then asks.
"Oshawa." I respond, knowing I'll need more clarification. "It's in Ontario. His parents moved there around the time he was born. My grandfather's job had moved him to Toronto in May of 1967. Père was born a year later."
Another few seconds of silence pass before Jordan breaks it.
"So you're Canadian?" She asks, something that may or may not be testing my patience at this point. "I'm half-Québécois, Jordan. I've... I've told you this many times." I say in response, trying to jog her memory of every instance where I told her this exact information. She seems to take the hint.
"Québécois? Is that-" I cut her off before she can continue. Jordan... Ne changez jamais. (Never change.)
"Most French-Canadians are Québécois, oui. Try to remember this for the future." I say as I hear the voice of two men outside. Brouillard and Randy.
"You are sure she is here? From what you told me... Elle est une ressortissante tardive. (She is a late riser.)"
"Positive, Miguel. I recognized the car." "La voiture? (The car?)"
"Yeah. The car. It's one of my own. I gave it to her."
I immediately return my attention to Jordan, sad that our call will have to end. "I have to go. Randy and Brouillard are here." I say, watching as her ears droop on the video.
"I get it. You, the busy model. Try to get some better sleep, okay? And good luck." She says, almost devoid of her usual slang. Come to think of it, ever since we graduated, our conversations have become gradually more slangless. It's odd...
"I will. You sound... odd without the slang." I say, almost blurting it out on accident. But Jordan just laughs.
"If you think that's strange, you should try talking to Helios sometime soon. She sounds like a completely different person most days. But you do need to go. Don't let me keep you." She quickly picks up her phone before giving me one last smirk. "See ya next time." The call once again ends before I can properly say goodbye. Not that it matters. Je sais que nous allons parler encore. (I know that we'll talk again.)
The door to the dressing room opens, and Brouillard is the first to enter. He sees me and confusion immediately sets on his face.
"Oh... Vous... Vous êtes ici. (You... You are here.)" He says, looking back to Randy briefly before returning his attention to me. I suppose we should get to setting up for the rehearsal.
"Really? You're dad is French-Canadian? Never would've guessed." The woman says. She's the model who goes on before me. Rebecca? C'était son nom, non? (That was her name, right?)
"Oui. His parents are both from Trois-Rivières." I say as Rebecca's manager walks over to us, presumably after having conversed with Randy and Brouillard.
"Alright. That's everything we need to do. Time to head out." He says to her. But she gives me one last statement before she slips behind the curtains.
"Good luck."
I turn after they disappear, facing Randy and Brouillard as they give the computer one last check. I walk over, the thick heels of my boots clicking on the wooden stage in the theater. It gets their combined attention, judging by how they turn to face me.
"Is everything set?" I ask, watching as Brouillard gives one last look to the lighting rigs before returning his attention to me.
"Oui. More or less. I would like to show you something first before we start. Si vous entreteniez l'idée. (If you'll entertain the idea.)" He responds, motioning for me to follow him to his laptop nearby. I briefly look over to Randy, and he simply nods.
'Trust him.' Is what that tells me. So I do. I trust Brouillard and follow him. I see on the screen a layout for the choreography. Interesting. Smoke machines in addition to the lighting rig. Wonder what he has planned.
"Wow. That is quite detailed for a sketch." I say as I process what it is I am looking at. Brouillard doesn't seem to mind. Instead, he chuckles before turning to face me once more.
"Merci. It is merely a suggestion. I fully expect you to take things your own way." He says as he looks over his work. I decide to look at it further. Seems this choreography will have me actually tell the tale of Chute de la Dame Blanche. Certainly will grab people's attention next Thursday. Which is the exact thing we want to have for that portion of the show.
"Visual story telling. J'aime ça. (I like that.)" I say, processing the sketch as I take more of it in. Brouillard's face doesn't change direction, but his eyes do.
"My personal motto is 'Show, don't tell'. Glad you think along similar wavelengths." He says, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I have a few mannequins that will serve as your Louis, if you are so inclined."
"I don't mind." I say, looking back to Randy to see if he approves of it. He seems to give the green light before he then speaks.
"If it helps to enhance the scene, then why the hell not? I've got no reason to give any opposition." He says before he motions to the lighting operators. I watch as the stage dims, leaving a spotlight close to stage right. I suppose that will be my entrance for the scene.
"Wow. How fancy." I say as I start walking, boots falling on the wood once more. I eventually stop by the curtain, staying just shy of the cone of light that marks where I am supposed to be. "I assume this is how we start? Me coming from stage right?" I say, putting some effort into my voice so that the two men can hear me.
"Oui! We'll go without music at first. Just to get a feel for the steps." Brouillard responds, raising his voice when he doesn't necessarily have to. I gave him a nod, signaling that we can start.
We work on the choreography for a few minutes, working out every kink that may exist so that the performance can be as smooth as possible. We're close to the end of our second run through, getting a feel for things before we can add the music.
"So Gold City goes up onto that platform and then she... jumps? I assume there will be some form of cushioning at the bottom?" I hear Randy ask Brouillard. He answers without facing him.
"Oui. Just like Matilde after learning of Louis' death. Don't worry, there are several mats behind the rock facades. They should be enough to soften the fall when she lands on them. Au moins, c'est l'espoir. (At elast, that is the hope.)" He says as Randy then looks up to me.
"Care to corroborate?" Randy asks me. I look down and see the line of black mats. Behind the rocks, just as Brouillard said.
"Yeah, I see them." I say, feeling a bit nervous as I stare at the drop. I must be at least three meters in the air. That's, what, eleven to twelve feet in imperial? C'est terrifiant. Mais je n'ai jamais laissé la peur m'arrêter auparavant. Soshite mada... īe. Ima ja nai. koko ja nai. Shūchū shi nai to. Ima koko ni shūchū shi te kudasai. (It's terrifying. But I've never let fear stop me before. And yet... No. Not now. Not here. I need to focus. Focus on the here and now.) I take a deep breath, readying myself for the drop. I take one step off the platform, and feel gravity take me the rest of the way. It's only a few seconds, but it felt like forever. The mats care not for my perception of time, however. I land with a soft thud, something that catches the attention of both men.
"Uh... You alright, now?" I hear Randy ask, the sounds of his shoes coming closer and closer as I start losing myself in the fantasies my mind begins to weave. Watakushi wa chōdo kare-ra ga honmono dat ta negat te i masu... (I just wish they were real...) The way Kati's lips felt... How she effortlessly pulled me onto her lap... Her hands leaving that trail of fire across my back... Watakushi wa ga dat ta koto o nozomu dono yō ni megami... (Goddesses how I wish that it was real...)
"Gold... You alright there? Nothing broken?" Randy is now looming over me, that long, dirty blonde hair of his almost touching my face. He must be kneeling down.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing hurts. I don't feel sore anywhere. This will work as the end of the performance." I tell him as I start to get to my feet. I step back onto the stage from the mats, somehow not losing my footing during the transition from soft mat to hardwood stage. But I manage it, coming up to Randy so that we can discuss things a bit further. "How was it?" I ask him, wanting to get some criticism on how it went. "The fall? The motions? How did it all look?"
"Looked good. What do you think, Miguel?" He says as he glances over at Brouillard. He simply nods, giving his approval as he talks to one of the lighting crew. Randy then turns back to me, eyes looking me up and down, presumably waiting for me to speak.
"So, are we ready to try this with the music?" I ask, looking between Brouillard and Randy. The former turns around to face us briefly before turning back around, giving a signal to someone in the pit. Presumably, someone who has music loaded and ready to go. I watch as she moves over to a laptop and presses play on something. I then hear it over the speakers and PA system in the theater.
It's soft, ethereal. Fitting for a ghost story. Especially one where our titular white lady throws herself from the top of a waterfall to her death.
|-That evening. ICHIRAN Ramen NY Times Square 152 West 49th Street-|
I like the smell in this place. It reminds me of Monbetsu. I'm glad Kati suggested it. Seemed she knew that I would enjoy this. Enjoy reliving a few memories.
"So... how did it go? The rehearsals?" I hear her ask as she blows on her ramen, making sure she doesn't burn her tongue as she eats it.
"Well enough. Brouillard wants me to come back tomorrow to run it a couple more times. Then a few days of rest before we run through it again." I tell her, taking some of the noodles between my chopsticks before slurping them into my mouth. It's not bad. Dare I say it's almost as good as some places back in Japan. But nothing compares to what existed around Tracen. And I think Kati knows that.
"How many?" Is the next thing I hear her ask. I turn slightly to face her so that she can hear me better over the noise.
"At least two. Brouillard is hoping to get one last run in day of before the theater starts getting everything ready for the night." I respond, watching as Kati takes a few more noodles into her mouth. Someone needs to show her how to properly use chopsticks. It's frankly embarrassing.
"Goddesses help you... Come here. If you're gonna use chopsticks, at least let me show you how." I say as I reach over, taking the hand holding the chopsticks so that I can show Kati how poor her technique is. "You hold them like this." I say as I maneuver her hand into the positions it needs to be in. I can tell that this is having... an effect on Kati's psyche. But we can worry about those ramifications later.
"Hold your dominant hand loosely. I assume you're right handed?" I ask as I take her right hand. But Kati pulls it away.
"I, uh... I'm a lefty. Well, actually ambidextrous, but, uh... I prefer my left hand." She says, stuttering slightly as she brings up her left hand. We can still make this work.
"That's okay. I did say dominant." I respond, taking her left hand within mine and reaching for her chopsticks. "So you hold your dominant hand loosely. Keep it that way. You then take one of the sticks and place it into the valley between your thumb and index, having the midpoint of the stick rest on your ring finger." I start explaining. Kati is a very good listener, judging by how well she is taking these instructions. But that's not the only thing I'm noticing. Her palm of her hand... Utilise-t-elle souvent la lotion? Je serais vraiment surpris. Elle n'a pas l'air particulièrement du type. (Does she use lotion often? I would genuinely be surprised. She doesn't particularly seem like the type.) I'm tempted to just throw everything out the window and run my fingers along the smooth and supple skin. But that truly would be throwing everything out of the window. I can't risk that, despite how tantalizing the thought may be.
You need to stop with such immoral thoughts, Shichi.
I won't even begin to entertain your nonsense, little demon.
I ignore the little oni on my shoulder, not in the mood for whatever nonsensical "logic" it tries to force upon me. Instead, I continue to guide Kati on how to use chopsticks.
"Now that you have the first stick in place, you take the second..." I take mine into my right hand to show her the next step. "And hold it as you would a pencil: lightly pinched between your index finger and your thumb." I set my sticks down, reaching for the twin of Kati's. I then hover it between the index finger and thumb of her left hand, motioning with a nod for her to take it. She does, and once again, she takes to it quite easily.
"Like this?" She asks, those rich brown eyes of hers meeting pale blue before immediately shifting away.
"Yes, just like that. You pretty much have it. Only thing left is the motions. Watch." I say as I take my hand away from hers, wanting to show her the motions. "The bottom stick stays stationary. You primarily move the top stick."I say as I make the motions. I hover over my bowl with the sticks, deftly taking some out of the noodles with ease. I can tell that Kati is watching intently, wanting to make sure she doesn't make any mistakes as she tries to replicate the actions she just witnessed. I look to her and nod. 'Your turn.' is what that conveys. I watch as she hovers her left hand over her own bowl, and with slow, methodical movements, she gently takes some noodles up with the sticks. A fast learner indeed... She manages to bring all the noodles up without issues, taking them into her mouth where she then slurps them down. Good. But we can't just practice with the noodles.
"Try grabbing the egg. See it?" I say, pointing at it with my own sticks. I watch as Kati again hovers her sticks over her bowl, but not before bumping me with her elbow.
"Oh, I'm sorry." She says, but I just chuckle.
"No harm done. Here, maybe we should switch seats so that you're not hitting me with your elbow." I say, standing up so that we can make the swap. Kati doesn't seem to object, standing up as well. I then sit down in her seat, and I take my bowl back, sliding hers over to her as she sits down. "There. Now, grab the egg." I say, watching her again hover over the bowl. With more deliberate movements, she snatches the egg, surprising herself with the ease she had just showcased.
"Wow. That was... easier than I thought." She says before popping the egg into her mouth.
"Probably should've prefaced that it's a lot easier than you think. Then again, you are a fast learner." I say, watching as a deep blush forms on her face. Kati quickly turns to face the other direction, and I find myself now blushing. Given the lighting, I don't think she can even see it. Kati eventually does turn back around, taking a deep breath to steady herself before she speaks. And it is something that takes me by surprise. shikashi, go chie de... (Though, in hindsight...)
"You know, when we first met back in June, I did some research when I got home that night after leaving Mark's apartment. You're nothing like what I was expecting. Nothing like I was reading about." She says after taking another bundle of noodles into her mouth.
"How do you mean?" I ask in return, wanting to pick her brain and figure out what she means. Or rather, I tell myself that. I already know what she means.
"You've got quite the reputation in Japan. Top model, yeah. But also difficult to work with." She pauses briefly before she speaks up again. "Difficult to the point of nearly ending contracts on the spot. But you don't do that with me. Miért is? (Why is that?)" Kati asks me. Guess I can be truthful to some degree here. It's the least I owe her after a so far successful four-month span.
"Most of the photographers I've worked with saw me as little more than another pretty face to add to their portfolio. A trophy if you want to view it that cynically. So I just... disappointed their expectations, I guess. Put on the tsundere act as a defense and coping mechanism with the hope that it would get people to change their minds. Never did." I take a deep breath before I move on to my next thought. "But you..." I start to say, stirring some of the noodles in my bowl with the sticks. "You don't. You actually treat me like a person. A living, breathing person and not some kind of hyper-mobile mannequin that you can play dress-up with." I can already tell that she's blushing, even without looking at her face. "You're interested in me. You want to know me. You're curious about my life. You... You want to be my friend. It's enough to make me feel more than comfortable. Like I can let my guard down and just... be myself. The real Gold City. Tomo and Masaru are the only other people who see things that way." I can tell from the extended silence that Kati is processing what I've just said. I throw a glance her way, catching my face with that oh-so subtle blush reflected in the lenses of her glasses for a brief moment before she focuses on her food. It stays like this for a few, tense seconds before Kati finally speaks up.
"The real Gold City... You really think I can see that?" She asks, doubting what I've just told her. "I'm... I'm just some little, loser lesbian with a camera from Yonkers. Not really much to say about that..." Self-deprecation. No. Not a good look on her. Not in the slightest. Watakushi wa koko de sore o kyoka suru tsumori wa arimasen. (I am not going to allow that here.)
"I don't just think I can see that. I know I can see that. It's the reason I suggested working with you to Randy. You can capture things that most people can't." I say to her, not giving the self-hatred a second to breathe. "The way you frame the models you've worked with. How you use lighting to accentuate their forms. That alone was enough for me to know you were the right person for me to work with. But then there's..." I gesture around myself. "All of this. These past four months. They've frankly been the most alive I've felt since my days on the turf."
Kati takes a deep breath. She's clearly not used to this kind of praise. She's not used to working with someone with as high of a profile as me. She's not used to collaborating with someone who is as hard working and methodical as Randy. She's used to small scale projects that barely get noticed. Indie shoots and student films. Fashion showcases for underground distributors and magazines. So to be plucked out of that so suddenly and so brazenly... Parfois je me sens mal d'avoir effectivement forcéça sur elle. (Sometimes I feel bad for effectively forcing this upon her.) But then there are moments like tonight. Where we can both relax and let our guards down. Learn from and about each other. And maybe... Just maybe... I can finally start to understand why it is I am so attracted to her. Why I feel this... I hesitate to call it love. My gut says to give it that name but... If I can't understand why it is Kati makes me feel this way, then I am effectively dooming whatever potential romance could exist between us. I want to be certain of things. I want to be able to definitively say, with full confidence, that I am am a queer woman. That I am bisexual. Then, and only then, can I start to make those kinds of moves. But for now, I guess I have to settle with figuring things out. All while my mind tortures me with visions that, for now, are unobtainable. Megami-tachi... anata ga dekiru hōhō de watakushi o tasukete kudasai. (Goddesses... Help me in whatever ways you can.)
We eventually leave the restaurant and... well we're just wandering around the area near the Rockefeller Center. The lights are bright, and the atmosphere is electrifying. Halloween is only two weeks away. This will be the first time in a long time I've spent it outside of Japan. I know that the celebrations in Tokyo are quite the spectacle, I've seen my share of parties while I was at Tracen. But here, in New York? I can't help but wonder how a city like this celebrates the holiday.
We stop by the rink. I remember how Kati showed me how to skate back in June. I made it a personal mission to come here whenever I had the time. Just to try and improve those skills. It's quite fun, skating. I hope that I can do it again with Kati sometime. Maybe when the rink is ready for winter use we could...
"Woah. There she is again." I hear Kati say. She's clearly looking at an ad on a nearby sign. I walk over to her and see it. Helios. Hmm... I've been seeing her in ads like these a lot lately. Looks to be for some perfume. Never really thought her to be the type for that. But I guess your tastes do change as you get older.
"Indeed." Is the only thing I can get out of my mouth. I immediately can tell that it's painting a not so good picture of my relationship with her in Kati's mind. Something that is confirmed by the next thing I hear her say.
"You don't get along with her?" She asks.
"No, no. Helios is... She's a good friend. We've just..." I start trailing off, finding myself unable to finish the thought. Kati finishes it for me.
"Haven't kept up much?" She says, probing a bit further into my mind.
"Yeah... Haven't kept up much. She... I don't know how to really say this, but..." I trail off again, not sure if the thought should be completed. "We weren't all that close. I think how little the two of us have talked since we graduated shows that."
"Oh. No, I get that. There's a few people I consider to be good friends that I haven't really talked to since we got out of high-school. They're off doing God knows what and I'm... I'm still in the metro. Still close to home." Kati responds. I feel my heart flutter again, knowing that... we're not really as different as appearances may first present. Maybe that's part of why I find myself attracted to her. Because I see some of myself in her. Because she is a kindred spirit in a way. Peut-être... (Maybe...) "Was she at least a good person?"
"Who? Helios?" I ask in return. "Yes. Very good. Loud and boisterous. Always knowing how to make a party come alive. But that never took away from her ability to care. Her means of loving her friends and whatever partner she found herself with, be they man or woman." I say, knowing that the last part will catch Kati's attention.
"She's bi? Why is that so surprising?" She says, chuckling as she does so.
"She's bi. Jordan's bi as well. Then there's Mejiro Palmer, the last member of our little quartet. She's like you: A lesbian." I say, heart still fluttering as the light from the advertisement bathes Kati in a warm, orange glow. It's since moved on to a different topic, hence the change of color.
"And that leaves you as the token straight friend." She then says. It hurts. It hurts to hear her say that. Because as time goes on, I realize more and more than I'm not straight. That I am queer. All thanks to her. Ā, watakushi wa kanojo ni sore o tsutaeru koto ga dekire ba ī no desu ga. (Oh how I wish I could tell her that.) But as I watch Kati closely, I see that same pain in her eyes. Oh... Ā, watakushi no... da kara kanojo wa watakushi o sono yō ni kūsō shite imasu... (Oh my... So she does fancy me that way...) I can tell by how she averts her eyes, never meeting mine for a second. The tone of her voice as the words came out of her mouth. This... This is just another reason to try and understand this attraction. I can use this for a good purpose. To learn about myself. To accept this facet of myself. But how? How will this factor into things?
yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn
It comes out uncontrollable. I try to fight it, but it's of no use. Kati notices, and makes comment. "You tired?" She says in a half-jest. It's the only thing she can muster.
"A little bit. I... didn't really sleep well last night." I respond, not wanting her to worry too much.
"Oh. Guess you're little tricks don't help out quite as well as you thought." She then says, forcing out a chuckle to try and save face.
"Maybe not that time. But they should tonight. I'll see you around?" I say, managing to make eye contact with her, if for only a brief moment.
"Yeah. I'll definitely see you on the 23rd." She responds.
"Well that's a given." I say in turn, taking a deep breath, sad that our little outing is ending. But all things end eventually. Nothing good can last forever. So we continue back to the ramen spot, parting ways there: Kati gets into her car and drives back to her apartment in the Bronx while I... I make my sad little march back to the Gershwin, fingers fiddling around with my car keys as I do so. I... Watakushi wa kore o ukeiretai. Totemo hidoku... (I want to accept this. So badly...)