Excellence of Proportion

Lulu entered the door held open by Dante and shimmied immediately over to the opposite side of the long back seat of the limo. She wiggled out of her overcoat and pushed it off to the side. Then she slapped her purse into her lap and sat with her hands clasped firmly on top of it, her face curled up into a peevish frown.

Dante stepped into the limo, took his seat next to Lulu and removed his coat. "Boy, the driver sure does keep this car hot," he said as he loosened his tie. He didn't need to turn toward Lulu to know that she was disappointed.

Lulu burst out, "Okay, so it wasn't a buxom woman in a horned hat yodeling at the top of her lungs. But, I don't understand, Dante. Why would you take me to see an opera about a woman who seduces men for money, goes to jail for murdering one of her husbands, and then becomes a prostitute? What the hell?"

Dante had begun the evening with such high hopes. Although it wasn't exactly ethical to use the fancy car of the man he was trying to take down, he had been relieved when Sonny had offered the use of his limo. He wanted the evening to be perfect, the special first date for the woman who kept insisting that they weren't dating. He had specifically wanted to take Lulu to see the opera that shared her name, Alban Berg's Lulu. Granted it wasn't the cheeriest piece of art he could have shared with her, but he had not expected her to be so disturbed by it.

Dante tried to explain, "So it was a little dark and gruesome. Okay, never mind that the composition was one of the most well known examples of twelve tone technique. You know, serialism?"

He didn't let Lulu's blank stare phase him and continued, "Look, wasn't it cool how Lulu was admired by all these suitors, none of whom was deemed good enough for her? I mean, you got to think twice about a woman who garners so much attention."

Lulu was unmoved. "It was about an amoral woman who gives her first husband a heart attack by letting him find her getting it on with a painter hired to paint her portrait. Then she dances around happily singing about how rich she is, now that her doctor husband is dead. She then marries the painter guy, but she goes on to have an affair with the newspaper guy, who happens to be married and is supporting the painter guy so that she can have a good life. The painter guy slits his own throat when he finds all this out. So now she can marry the newspaper guy. Some schoolboy comes out of nowhere, also in love with the Lulu girl, and shoots the newspaper dude. Then Lulu, who, incidentally, no one calls by her real name, ends up in jail accused of the murder."

She stopped to take a breath and threw her hands up in the air, slapping them back down on her purse.

Dante remained even-keeled in the face of Lulu's obvious frustration. "Yeah, what was that about no one calling her by her real name?"

Lulu, in an attempt to reign in her irritation, took a deep breath, thought for a bit, and said, "Well, obviously, every man, except her father and that countess chick, in Lulu's life thought they could define her, reinvent her into a figment of their desire. It's like they didn't want her to have a past, a real identity. They wanted her to start fresh with each of them. Fresh with a new name and all."

Dante noted, "Yeah, and she had a pretty sorted past, didn't she."

Talking plot points of the opera had helped Lulu calm down enough to offer, "The little film in the middle was a nice break, I guess. Showing how she goes to jail, and that countess lady, who also happens to be in love with her, helps her get out."

Relieved that Lulu's ire had diminished a bit, Dante continued with his analysis of what they had just spent the last couple hours watching. "And then did you get the symmetry after that? Lulu runs off to Paris with the musician guy, the newspaper guy's son? She becomes a prostitute and her three clients are played by the same actors as her three husbands?"

"Yeah, it was cool how it came back around like that," Lulu conceded.

"Yeah, it's like the whole thing was a mirror, reflecting on itself. The last act reflected the first act. And the middle, the music in the film in the middle was a perfect palindrome."

Lulu stubbornly insisted, "Whatever the case, how well structured the thing was, however pretty the music was, Lulu's last client was Jack the freaking Ripper, Dante. He murders her and the countess lady in cold blood! I mean did you know what the story was going to be when you brought me here? What were you thinking? I mean, it wasn't even Italian! Aren't operas supposed to be Italian?"

Dante laughed lightly and said, "No, it wasn't Italian, but, regardless, wasn't Lulu's voice amazing? That high soprano, you don't find many singers who can do that."

Recalling the perfection of the lead singer's voice, Lulu got a faraway look in her eyes, and couldn't help but smile. She appreciated Dante's knowledge of and passion for this art form completely unfamiliar to her. She admitted, "Yeah, that voice was incredible, like, the voice of an angel or something. I just wish she had been more likeable as a human being."

Dante smiled broadly and said, "Well, that's excellence of proportion right there. The angelic quality of her voice perfectly balancing the squalor of her life. See? Symmetry!"

Dante's smile always caught Lulu off guard. It was like opening a window in a dark house and being blinded by the light streaming in. She gazed at that smile and allowed her own smile to widen, beneath which she mumbled, "Symmetry, huh."

Lulu had seen the light in Dante's eyes before, that contagious light that instantly sparked the light in her own eyes. What she hadn't seen before was the desire.

Dante scanned her face, drinking her in. He was done talking about the opera. He just wanted this incredible girl sitting next to him to want to be with him. He had shared a passion of his with her, and she had resisted. But it was clear that she wanted to understand. He was confident that all she wanted was for someone to take her out of her comfort zone, to surprise her.

Dante took Lulu's hand in his and extended both their hands so they aligned, palm to palm. He began, "Symmetry, like my hand against your hand. See how it lines up just right? Symmetry, like your mouth, right down the middle there, and the corners turned up in that smile...yeah, that smile...symmetry." His eyes went lower, and he continued, "And your shoulders, catching the light like that, those glistening shoulders..."

Letting go of Lulu's hand, Dante swept his hand up the curve of her neck, pulled her head towards his, and kissed her deeply. Lulu's hands instinctively went up to Dante's tie and loosened it completely. She unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. When her fingers found skin, she gasped involuntarily.

Dante's hand had somehow ventured to Lulu's knee and had started traveling upwards. The deep kiss combined with the feel of her flesh beneath his hand left him breathless and hungry. He swept his other arm around Lulu's waist and pulled her closer. Her updo had come undone a bit and tendrils of hair cascaded down her face and bare back. Dante took his hand off her leg just long enough to push back some of that hair, as his kiss traveled behind her ear and down her neck.

Lulu had meanwhile pushed Dante's shirt back, exposing more shoulder, more electric skin. Words had been replaced by throbbing pulses and it was no longer a matter of understanding or sharing. The immediate need both felt was to remove all barriers and get closer, as close as two people can be.

As the window separating the backseat from the driver slid open with a grating noise. Dante and Lulu quickly let go of their embrace and rushed to adjust their clothing. The driver glanced in his rearview mirror, cleared his throat, and said, "Excuse me, Mr. Pirelli? Mr. Corinthos just called to say he'll be needing his car back immediately. We'd better head on back to Port Charles."

Dante looked at Lulu and shook his head in disbelief. He mumbled a nearly inaudible, "Okay, I guess we can't keep the boss waiting. Let's go home..."