Thank you so much for the love! I do want this to be a dark and twisted tale and it sort of takes turns from here on out. Any wishes on what to happen? :)
Chapter five:
The Savoy hotel was completely crowded; to the point where one struggled to even skirt around another person to just reach the bar. The ballroom was at the centre of the bar area; high ceilings adorning brilliant chandeliers and a vast open space which glittered in every which way. At the parting of the crowd, Rose allowed Stuart to lead her about the floor in such a dramatic way that she almost couldn't keep up, but she did; just. Anything to keep her mind ticking over with a function which wasn't that of wondering into her own dark past.
''The reviews were outstanding for last night's performance.'' Stuart bellowed over the din of the band, the brawling drinkers and the enthusiastic dancers. ''The best by far. They call you the diamond of the stage. Say how you broke the heart of every audience member present.''
His dark eyes sparkled with such enthusiasm that Rose actually couldn't help me feel her lips perk up, only slightly. His passion and love for the play matched hers and frequently, one couldn't help but think how Stuart wasn't in front of a camera with his beautiful face, gravelled voice and wonderful acting ability but he was never one to court such attention and preferred the smaller scale.
''Oh, come on, darling. Do try to act as though they haven't executed you in the Square and left you hung, drawn and quartered.'
Rose pressed her lips together. ''Dear, Stu, I feel as though I have no excitement to show in me.'' She glanced about the ballroom at how every other single person seemed to have such thrill in them it was dazzling, yet Rose did feel as though she was not there at all. ''I feel as though after yesterday's performance I am wrung out to dry.''
''Yes. I can see that.'' The concern within his face disintegrated as soon as he knew of her feelings. Of course, the true extent of them would never be revealed. How she was shattered, broken and then barely stitched back together before she was torn apart again at the seams.
''Do not worry yourself over me.''
Stuart led her, slowly out of the main crush of the ballroom. His white three-piece suit was a stark contrast to his dark and handsome features. Under the glittering lamps, his eyes were a dark sparkling onyx upon her pale and dewy skin. Allowing him to take her to a quieter area, Rose kept her frame as they waltzed expertly outward onto the frays of the crowd before finally reaching an area, beneath the ornate tapestries where it was darker and less crowded. The music was just as loud though, and as a waiter approached, Stuart quickly released her and stole two flutes then handed one to her which she accepted and watched the fizz within the small glass.
''You know, I do believe all eyes are on you tonight more than any other.'' Stuart observed, eyeing up passersby as they stole a glance and then another.
''Oh?'' Rose, truth be told, had failed to notice.
''Possibly because of the reviews or because of your dalliance with that damned photographer.''
With sharp eyes, Rose parted her dark red lips to gain some air within her lungs before they would feel entirely crushed under the weight of the world.
''Dalliance?''
''Yes. The papers seemed to think you are his lover.''
Clara had mentioned that the newspapers had gained an unreal interest in her after that one dance shared. Rose stomach felt unsettled and she placed her left hand across her abdomen as though that would settle the shaking which had started to stir. On instinct, her other hand raised the flute to her lips where she emptied the entire contents with one gulp. It did nothing to settle her stomach but perhaps it would cause her to fall into some stupor where she could regain herself some peace.
''Well,'' Rose thrust the empty glass to Stuart before raising her hand to gain the attention of the waitress who was passing. ''Was it not just the week before that you and I were supposed lovers?''
''Well, yes...''
Rose raised her brow, with a cool appraisal of her co-star and friend. Stuart placed the empty flute upon the tray and took another two flutes and handed the second to Rose, grazing her fingers with his own. Something sparked there; but not electricity.
''And tell me, have we ever, in three years wound up in bed with one another?''
''Well, no...''
''Well then, dear, Stu, perhaps that tells you everything that is needed to know. Do not believe what the papers print. You know as well as I just how much horse shit is said.''
Rose's dark lined eyes widened, blinking thick and full black lashes toward Stuart before she pressed her lips to the flute and raised her chin. Never in the said time of knowing him, had she spoken in such a direct manner. Never in the time of their meeting, had they ever discussed the rumours of their supposed off-stage love affair. It was expected, one would think; they were playing passionate lovers and of course, most would expect that to spew into real life too. It never had.
They had danced.
They had conversed.
They had never crossed a boundary.
''You know, I do believe that champagne agrees with you.'' Stuart stifled a smirk. ''I like this feisty version of you. Where has she been hidden these years?''
''Perhaps she was there all along. I just needed an—event to rekindle the spirit.''
With a raised chin, her eyes scanned across the crowd. It was hectic, crazy and wonderfully weird to see how so many had come once more to celebrate the same play which she had been part of for so long. Perhaps there was a need to celebrate; even if it was her returning spirit. It had been terribly dormant for a long while. Taking the second flute of champagne down in another long gulp, Rose smoothed out her silver and sequinned knee length dress and shoved her glass onto a table which held a tea service.
''Well, you wanted to dance, didn't you? Come and take me for a spin.''
Wordlessly, his right hand was at her waist right where she curved out and his other clasped onto her hand. He pulled her toward him, their torsos not even a breath apart and she giggled into his shoulder, leaning inwards so that her scent washed over him. Pulling her through the throngs of the crowd, the people parted as he led her into the centre of the ballroom, eyes upon them both as they went.
Rose sparkled like the diamond they called her. Glittering pieces of her dress hitting the chandeliers and causing a beautiful glow. Stuart was her guide as she trusted him to lead her, as he always did. On and off the stage.
An electric buzz started then, taking her on what felt like a rollercoaster ride. It started with a whirl in her head and then going down her spine, to her legs and tingling all the way across her skin. Stuart's moves made her feel weightless, fluid and leading her across the floor, which felt as though it had disappeared was like floating through the air. His eyes were on hers and she felt a flush upon her cheeks for no apparent reason as she met his intense gaze. She found a ribbon of colour there for the first time, and a splash of something else. If she wasn't so accustomed to him, then perhaps there would have been a hint of fear.
Rose could no longer see the crowd, for all she awareness lay with Stuart Black. How he handled her, preventing her from falling over her own heels. How sturdy he was. How she was pinned there under his unwavering gaze. Unwavering in how he would always catch her, raise her spirits and grow to like her as a person and not just an actress.
''You know I do believe that people are watching us and no one else.'' Stuart remained stoic, not removing his stare.
Again, Rose laughed, piercing the air and then, pressed her cheek to his as she kept focused on the adrenaline which had suddenly appeared and prevented her from feeling anything of the wounds which she had nursed for the past forty-eight hours. Finding a will to face any of it was unappealing but here, with Stuart, there was an element of freedom for the first time in such a long time.
''And tomorrow's papers shall be a re-run of the week before last once more?'' Rose whispered against his ear. ''How one would believe us to be lovers.''
''You know I do believe that you are touched.''
''No, just taking leave of my own senses for a little while. I am to celebrate this damned play tonight. I am happy to be part of something so wonderful. I am happy-'' then, she stopped, hearing her own voice, as she convinced not only Stuart but herself how much joy was within her numb mind and body. It was only slightly betraying to hear but still, enough to convince him. Her performance once again was brilliantly convincing, perhaps borderline conniving of her to
''In that case, we shall not leave this dance floor until your feet are bleeding, love.'' He moved his hand to her waist, holding her tighter there.
''I wish that to be true,'' she raised a brow, then wistfully lowered it. ''You do know that this play is wonderful because of you.''
''Ha, tell the critics that. You're the queen here.''
'No, they are wrong.'' Rose exhaled. ''True talent such as yours needs to be taken further. You belong in the moving pictures.''
''Never! What an idiotic thought. The only people who work in that field are the ones after the big money. I have never wanted to be anything other than an actor, and I never will be.''
''You don't want to be known for your talent?''
''Not if it means growing an ego the size of London, no.''
Rose had ignited the old anger within him. This was a debate which was ongoing for several months and one which she had teased him with, knowing just how strong his principals truly were. They did tease the other terribly, almost like young playmates or siblings and it was perhaps what their friendship was built on as well as the mutual love for acting.
''Never change.''
''I don't intend to. Not for money or for a woman. The latter will need to accept me fully, for who I am.''
''Are there any females who are taking your interest? This newfound fame from the show may have broadened your horizons.''
''Met a girl last week; Teresa something. She was bland. Talked about herself so much that I could have fallen asleep in my soup.''
''What of the tall one that was at the show last month?''
''Oh, Jeannie. No. She went off with someone else.'' Stuart breezed past the subject so fast that she had barely time to think of another name. ''Less of me. What about you?''
''What of me?''
''You are the spinster of the stage. Never married.'' Stuart laughed, relaying the terms of which she had been called over the years. ''Some say you have secret love affairs all over the city, some say you never have been in love.''
''Ah, Stu, some say this and some say that.'' Her head spun with such intensity, that she almost needed to sit down until he caught her waist to slow the pace of their dance down. Her legs felt like jelly; just wobbling about to the beat of the band. ''Gossips will never cease, will they?''
''Not when a beautiful, vibrant, talented actress like you has never so much as glanced in the direction of another man.'' Then, just as how her eyes slowly traced over his face, with such a tender and wonderful glance that he might have fallen in love with her right there, if there wasn't such a chilling edge to her. She almost wanted to trip over her own feet. Almost did. Her stomach fell forward and then back, as though she was about to jump from a great height. As though she was back at that same precipice form many years before. The fall which she was still recovering from...burdened with.
''I have glanced at you.'' Rose whispered, barely audible if it wasn't for the music now coming to a slow stop. Their movements slowed to a sway but neither moved about. ''I have wondered why I could never fall in love with you. You're the only one that I have ever wanted to love with all of my heart but I never could.''
Stuart felt how she had started to tremble. How her green eyes grew stark in colour. ''Me?'' He was floored. Astounded. Beyond any words one could ever think of stringing together.
''Yes. You.'' Her breathing accelerated. ''I met you and started this play at a time when I needed it the most in the world. I was devout of anything. Empty.'' Her eyes lined with tears. ''You fought in that war. I was there. I felt a kinship of a sort. As though something could have developed over time and yet, we grew closer but never out of a boundary.''
Stuart held her close, for fear of loosening grip and frightening the Hell out of them both. Perhaps reality would sweep in then once she was away from him. ''Rose, you have set my heart on fire...'' There was more to add but he failed to be comprehensive.
''But, I can never offer you anything more than friendship.''
Darting his tongue out to wet his lips, Rose watched as he contemplated taking her mouth right there and then in the midst of all of this circus. In a way, she wished him to. Off stage would she feel a flame for him? Would he feel a flicker for her in return? It seems almost ghastly to think of it. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to race for sanctuary someplace in the pit of her.
''I have never thought of it that way between us.'' Stuart blinked, as though contemplating between blunt and burning truth or a slightly softer approach. ''No, I correct. I have, fleetingly.''
''And was it almost like a betrayal?''
''No, it was forbidden. As though you always belonged to another, even before you met me.''
Rose's stance faltered. Her frame eased. Her hands fell to her side and her glance with it.
''That is the thing, dear Stu. I feel I always have belonged to him.''
Watching her long for another made Stuart ache, in a place where he had never known such a feeling to form. Their bond was unbreakable. What was felt for the other was never discussed but it was far more than only a slight attachment.
''At times, it had felt like we were meant to be such a great love to each other.''
Rose darted her gaze to him. ''You are a great love of my life. You share my passion for the stage. My love for writing. The commitment and withstanding to hold yourself as such a wonderful artist and creative person.''
''But I am not the person you crave in your bed. In your life as an equal.''
The sounds of another song began to play beautifully. String and lights about them seemed to sparkle. It felt like a carnival, with bunting and such hanging about them with flyers of the play. Her own face on a printed picture, so close to Stuarts. Their mouths were just millimetres apart. How he would kiss her within their time upon the stage; as their alter egos. This game felt like a riddle and going from every corner of her life and then bouncing back. There had been a host of Romeo's who had propositioned her; blowing theatre kisses and reciting lines which they had never understood just to attempt to get beneath her skin. None of it worked. Nothing would.
She had belonged to Jack Dawson. Body, mind and spirit.
''I feel as though it would be a sin,'' she replied eventually.
''A great big sin to love me?''
''No, a sin to be unfaithful to a man who I have felt in my bones for ten years.'' In a cloud of realisation; Rose watched his face. Those eyes. The ones which she had grown to know like her own, yet, not as great as she had known Jack's though the stark contrast in the length of time in which she had known both great men differed greatly.
''Who is he? This great love of yours.''
Raising her chin, Rose exhaled out slowly. Taking Stuart's hands within her own, she caressed her fingers across them and squeezed her eyes closed. She could feel him tremble, and teetering between the edge of wanting her and the edge of needing to walk away from a dangerous situation. Tension was evident and it smouldered beneath the surface. Perhaps if he had kissed her, like a lover, just days ago, then she could have fallen for him even a little. Perhaps truly loved him. Perhaps even admired him but to have taken things so far would have been unfair when her heart had never left Jack Dawson's hands. Taking other lovers after the war had been—pleasant. The company was pleasant. She had laughed. Even felt joyful but never content. Stuart was the only to make her feel content in every way of life aside from any romantic notions. Stuart was everything a man should be and yet there was a small piece missing and one could never truly pinpoint what that part was. Was it the part which would enable him to transition into a man who could become her lover?
''He-'' Rose wanted to explain. To allow her guard to lower. To allow her heart to soar into Stuart's hands and allow him to be the passionate, great love which she truly craved in her belly. ''He-he-''
She shivered. Unsettled. It startled her. Surprised her. As though her very soul was been saw through and then exposing every utter part of her to them. Legs grew completely weak, knees juddering and her stomach sank to the very bottom before she felt it flip over and then-
A flash.
Another.
It blinded her.
BOOM.
Photographers crowded her. Two or three. Enough to cause her to blink and become blind. Panic set in, and Stuart began to shelter her from the commotion. Pulling her into him, she allowed him to become the protection which she had needed. The scent of him soothed her. His arms were safe. His voice, as it barked out at them to leave her alone and get back wasn't frightening to her. Through watery eyes, she gained some conscious, enough to feel that unsettling, nerving feeling shoot right through her again until her eyes locked onto someone.
Blue.
Watery.
Sombre.
Jack.
His camera was limp within his hand, then it slowly trickled to the floor beside him...forgotten.
A deep need to cry out to him impaled her but there was no time to. Stuart had already cradled her within his arms, clutching her to his chest and she closed her eyes as he carried her out of the ballroom.