Red flowers danced on the water. Flickering lights created by the water drops on his pale shoulders came and went. His wet fingers played with the warm liquid, while he stared at the ceiling, head filled with thoughts. Worried about the power he sometimes had over political or economic situations he did not want to possess; how if he told a secret from one of his patrons to another it could easily ruin a business. He cared not for extortions or rewards. He cared not for being mixed in society's petty schemes. He only cared about his trade, for that was the only thing he learnt to do. He knew of nothing else but how to seduce, how to create a mystifying atmosphere, of how his legs could… An energetic knock on the door forcefully interrupted his divagations.
"Arthur, you must hurry, a gentleman is here to see you. Oh, and how charming he is."
"Who is it, so early this time?"
"A Sir Alfred Jones. I haven't seen him round before." Arthur's eyes widened in a way his emeralds could be seen fully round.
"An American? Tall and blonde?" he confirmed.
"Yes. You would have to be a fool not to hurry."
Arthur rushed to get clothed, his garments slightly tamer for fear of judgment. He found Alfred sitting on a green sofa, next to one of the sinful beds of the establishment. The man quickly rose as Arthur entered the room but stood in silence for a few awkward minutes, analysing the worn carpet.
"Sir, it has been a week. I was not expecting a visit from you." It was Arthur who first spoke, finally indicating for both to get seated.
"I know. I shouldn't have come. You are but a stranger but I'm afraid this is a thought I can't share with anyone else…and I must talk. I do know a gentleman must not speak ill of anyone in their absence but…" Alfred went quiet again.
"Surely you are aware this is a place where society's rules matter not, so please speak your mind."
"Perhaps you do not remember I intended to marry an English lady I met only days ago. Surely we had written letters and both our families are on cordial terms. But to say I was disappointed would not be enough. She and her mother were absolutely distasteful. They went as far as teaching me what sins would be proper for a man of good-repute to confess at church. Does it seem possible that such hypocrisy can exist in a refined heart?"
"Oh, Alfred! You are too naive for your own sake!" answered Arthur, laughing.
"Why do you smile so at me? It is a serious matter." Alfred said not even attempting to tame his own grin. "I am at a loss!"
"Perhaps you will find pleasure in your interactions if you try to look past the first appearance."
"What if I find that nothing is more disheartening than engaging in such conversations?"
"Then I believe you must find some source of delight in your misery. Perhaps by smoking cigars or going with gentlemen to the theatre. I'm sure you'll find others in the same predicament." he said mischievously.
"Arthur!" he gasped, faking shock "You would advise someone such misfortune?!"
"Surely not all of those who are wealthy are agreeable and yet I find them all to be married quickly. So my proposition can't be that inconceivable…"
"That is of little consequence to me, it is upon who I favour mostly that I place my concern. And upon meeting her and her mother, I am afraid it would terribly mar my opinion on Londoners had I not met you before. I beg pardon but I would think perhaps it was the rainy weather that turned the people, alike the streets, muddy." Arthur answered that comment with a laugh.
"That is quite a way of putting it, my friend."
That evening, Alfred told him all about his trip, his interests and his potential fiancée. They talked like they had been friends for years. In the small rooms the daylight grew dimer and dimer until Alfred finally had to rush to his hotel room, leaving Arthur to his night obligations.
Ironically, it was on whom society vested the immorality cloak that Alfred found integrity, a man who received him with no pretences and no camouflage. His next visit had been justified by the need to thank Arthur for his advice and attention, a visit every etiquette book would encourage. However, soon, Alfred would find himself talking away his afternoons without any particular reason, other than enjoying the other's company. As Arthur started opening up more and more, he uncovered how bitterly he felt about Alfred's peers. It was the acidity of a trapped bird, a bird that deserved and aspired to more than societal exile, and yet would die if set free to the wilderness of people's norms. It came a bit as a shock how much he wished he could take him under his protection and show Arthur all he had seen, to take him to America and to the parties in London. Although perhaps what shocked him the most was how often he found himself imagining inviting Arthur to dance a quadrille with him on such balls.
On a breezy evening, a month after the first visit, Alfred came rushing in. He ran up the stairs, missing every odd step. His familiarity with the place allowed him to release his inner child.
"Arthur, I can't possibly keep this any longer. She must … A-Arthur! You are undressed!"
"Of course I am. One must be undressed in order to get dressed, which was precisely what I was doing when you came barging in!" Arthur said, not fazed by his own naked state. "Is it your intention to remain there, standing in some semi-conscious state for the rest of the evening?! My God, Alfred, how prudish you are! You are red to the ears!"
How Alfred found himself seated outside, waiting, he did not know. All he could remember was how the sunset light perfectly drew Arthur's silhouette, how his eyes had slid down the delicate spine from neck to bottom. His lip still throbbed from how hard his own teeth had sunk into it. When Arthur opened the door, Alfred was certain that, in his imagination, he would no longer be asking him just for a dance...