Hokay, well, this is something new. I don't often do unrequited love, and I've never done it quite like this before. Here you go- enjoy:
"O, I die, Horatio!"
The young man on stage swept his arm through the air, laying it over his chest as he proclaimed his lines. "The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit. I cannot live to hear the news from England, but I do prophesy th'election lights on Fortinbras. He has my dying voice." He fell gracefully to his knees, his black clothes rippling. He was so beautiful, so graceful, and perfect. His skin was unblemished and smooth and eerily pale, every bit of him beautifully proportioned and captivating. "So tell him, with th'occurrents, more and less," His voice, perfectly pitched, faded ever so slightly as he spoke, dwindling away as if the life in his lithe body really was draining away. "Which have solicited. The rest is silence..."
The words tailed off, and with a heaved breath the young man slumped down, first on his back, a heart-wrenching moan of pain slipping from between his lips. His features were so twisted, so expressive of pain. And as he moaned again and curled up on his side, shuddering, a tangible ripple of pity moved through the audience.
He was beauty itself, his two-tone hair obvious as he lay there, still.
In his seat at the back of the stalls, Rei Kon found his eyes full of tears. For the whole length of the performance, his attention had been drawn to the man now feigning death on the stage. The programme listed him as one Kai Hiwatari, but in Rei's mind he was an angel, comparable to Gabriel himself. It wasn't often he went to the theatre- he was a person of high tastes and low income, but every December, his Christmas present to himself would be a trip to the theatre, to whichever show took his fancy, whatever it was, whichever theatre it was showing at, and however much it cost. This year, this 27th of December, it was Hamlet, and Rei was so glad he'd chosen it over all the other things that had caught his eye.
His tears finally managed to spill- just a little- as the curtain fell and applause rang all around him. He waited until the people to either side of him had moved before getting up. It was raining outside, so continuing in the vein of extravagance he got into a taxi just outside the door of the theatre. The driver looked at him in the mirror, looking thoroughly disinterested, and the red microphone light flashed on. "Where to?"
"Smith Street."
No further exchange, no politeness. The light just flashed off, and the taxi started to move. Rei opened his programme once again and looked carefully at Kai's biography. A student of a prestigious theatre school. Grandfather in the oil business. Living in London full time.
Programme biographies, Rei felt, were so often inadequate. They said really very little about the people who'd taken over his life for the evening and utterly captivated him. The information about Kai in particular seemed painfully brief to him. There was nothing there about his wishes, or his hopes, or his desires. Nothing about his hobbies outside of the theatre, nothing about his preferences, or his pets, or his taste in colour and food and music. Just a few unrelated facts.
Still. The picture of him was a good one. A shot of his head and shoulders. The two shades of his hair were less visible from the front, and he was frowning. Did he not like having his picture take? Or was he always like that? Rei pored over the picture, fascinated by the handsome lines of Kai's face, the curve of his mouth, the sway of his hair-
"Seven eighty-seven."
Rei blinked, snapped from his daze, and automatically reached for his wallet, counting out his money and pushing it through the barely-there slit for the driver to take. He was aware that a tip of some kind was expected, but didn't feel like paying extra for someone who'd spoken all of five words to him. He slipped out onto the pavement outside his house and watched the taxi roar off into the night, splashing a deep puddle all over the cars on the other side of the street. The rain from before had softened to drizzle, so Rei took his time walking up his garden path and unlocking the door.
Once inside, his shoes joined his jacket in the hall, and he climbed the stairs, not bothering to switch on a light. He knew where everything was, after all, and putting the light on would waste electricity and, more importantly, his money. The landing was bathed in moonlight anyway, blazing through the bathroom window and through the open door onto the landing wall. His bedroom was nice and dark, though, and still warm though the heating had gone off an hour and more beforehand. He shed his watch and wallet onto the bedside table, followed them with the theatre programme and stripped off, flinging his clothes in the general direction of his wash basket and slipping between the covers, snuggling up in them with a smile.
It had been a wonderful evening. His annual escapism, made all the more special this time by Kai. Rei felt...strange. He'd never spoken to Kai in his life. Never met him outside of the theatre, never seen him anywhere other than on the stage, playing a part. But thinking about him made Rei's insides shiver. His voice, his eyes, his figure...it was all...
Rei rolled over onto his back, sighing, thinking up delicious little dreams in which he met Kai in town and dared to speak to him, and Kai smiled, and Kai touched him, and Kai kissed him, and...
Rei woke the next morning to his alarm screaming in his ear. Groaning, he fumbled for the snooze button and pressed it, feeling decidedly under the weather. It was cold, and still dark outside. The perfect morning for staying in bed. Which made it all the more depressing that he had to get out of bed and go to work.
He dressed, adhering to his usual routine- shower, dress, eat, sigh over bills, leave for work.
The pavement was still wet from the rain the night before, and Christmassy things still surrounded him even though the day had passed. The tube was crowded and full of people coughing- as usual- and Rei was glad to get off three stops later, riding the elevators up into the freezing air again.
His thoughts were a mix of dreading work, avoiding standing on people, and Kai. He was still having trouble ridding the pale actor from his mind. He'd been handsome, of course, but Rei had seen plenty of handsome people at the theatre and none of them had ever stuck in his mind so much. So then why couldn't he stop thinking about him? He knew he could try to convince himself that it was because he'd never seen Hamlet performed before, but he knew it wasn't that.
It was just...something. He couldn't explain it. His mind was emblazoned with Kai's face. His gorgeous, lustrous hair, his lips...like roses...
Roses?
Rei paused, wondering what had made him suddenly think of roses. But, of course. He'd passed a flower shop not five seconds ago. And then it struck him. Flowers. Roses. Did people still send flowers to actors and actresses they liked? Surely they did? Surely...he could?
He backtracked quickly, elbowing his way through the tide of people all on their way to work, and paused outside the florists. It was definitely a posh one, and most likely wildly expensive. But the festive season wasn't over, and he felt somehow compelled to...thank Kai, somehow. Rei wasn't shy, but he knew he would never be comfortable hanging around backstage and stalking Kai to tell him how much he admired him, how much he respected him, how he'd made Rei's life seem so much more -special- for one night-
A man in a suit barged into him, scattering his thoughts and bringing him back into the real world.
To florist, or not to florist?
Rei walked into the shop decisively, and looked around. Colours assaulted his eyes from every angle, and if the freezing weather hadn't woken him up when he walked out of his house he probably would have had to close his eyes. Lilies drooped magnificently all along one wall, and across the other were carnations, chrysanthemums, irises, and flowers he didn't know the names of or had never seen before. The whole back wall was roses- nothing but- in every colour. Red, orange, yellow- a rainbow of delicate beauty.
He stared for a while, fascinated.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"Um...I..." The idea seemed silly now he had to tell someone else. "There's this actor-"
"Which flowers did you have in mind?"
"Um..." Rei looked around, eyes drawn to the back wall of roses again. "Roses?"
"Colours?"
"Um..." The assistant, a petite blonde girl who seemed rather impatient, clicked her tongue.
"Go take a look, and then ring the service bell when you decide."
She disappeared through a door behind the counter, leaving Rei alone in the shop. Taking his time, he walked from one end of the rose wall to the other, admiring them, sniffing them, and wondering. There was a poster on the wall near the roses, saying what each colour meant. Rei flicked his eyes over it. 'What do you want your roses to say for you?' Well...what -was- he trying to say with the flowers?
Appreciation. Pink roses, then.
And respect. Red roses as well.
Admiration. Light pink roses.
His eyes drifted again over the entry for red roses.
'Red roses signify many things, including: respect, courage, passion, beauty, and love (romantic love).'
If he sent red roses...what would Kai think of him? Would he wonder what he'd meant by them? Or- and Rei suspected this idea was closer to the truth- would he think another dribbling obsessive was trying to woo him with a silly, romantic gesture?
He sighed, deciding against sending any red roses. After all, he didn't want Kai to get the wrong idea...
Then again, would it matter? Kai probably got flowers every day, bouquets and bouquets. He probably got so many flowers he never bothered to find out who'd sent them. Maybe he didn't even like flowers. Maybe he gave them to his girlfriend, or his mother.
Rei looked at the wall of roses again and then turned away, walking out of the shop and continuing on his way to work. When he got there, Julia, the new girl, was taking down the office Christmas tree. Rei watched her for a second, then headed for his desk.
It was proof to him that the festive season was, in fact, over. No more thinking about actors. No more spending money he couldn't afford to spend on extravagant flowers. No more daydreaming. Just work, and the hope that next year the play would be as captivating as it had been this time.
Fin
R&R please!