Try as Shelby might, and he tried very hard to reciprocate his girlfriend's excitement over it, he cannot, for the life on him, summon the energy to try to pretend to be happy about this upcoming birthday.
It had never been an issue in all of his thirty-two full years of life, and yet he dreads the moment he will have to double the number three on every form he fills out. It is stressing him out, and he is not sure he has it figured out.
On all those previous years, he would look forward to throw a party, celebrate himself and welcome in a new chapter of his life. There was no date more narcissistic than one's birthday, and he recognized it as such, enjoying the occasion to gauge and reinforce his prestige over the Los York bourgeoisie.
However, this year, for some reason, he was not nearly as excited. Yes, he is no longer the Prestige Parasite, and yes, he recognizes the harm this obsession has wrought upon his life and his health, but Lynette, detached as she was, still enjoyed birthdays plenty. It was not one of the things she insisted that he gave up, and so, despite his dearest desires, he could not blame his disinterest on that spiritual evolution of his.
Deep down, Shelby knew much too well the reason why he dreads his thirty-third birthday, but admitting it out loud was not something he was prepared to do as of yet. Or ever, in fact. Even if the reason was right in front of him.
"So, I was running some plans for your birthday this afternoon." Lynette says, hands deep in the soapy water in the sink and her back firmly to him.
One hand places the clean item into the drying rack while the other hand reaches for a dirty one to put into the bowl. It was surprisingly efficient for such a clumsy person like his girlfriend, but perhaps he should not stare too hard. He might just jinx it and lose yet another of his coffee mugs.
"The one that comes around once a year?" The blond asks, almost petulantly.
"The very same." She continues, unphased by his remarks and restack one of the plates that was not sitting steady on the rack. "It's much too late to have it fully catered, so I was thinking, maybe we could open up the vacation house again and hold a party there, with fewer guests. We can have a meal and for the entertainment, we could…"
"I don't really know if I want to do anything for my birthday." He confesses, pushing the remainder of the dessert around his bowl.
"You've always done something for your birthday." She states matter-of-factly, keeping her back to him as she pulls in the last plate and a couple of cups and begin to wash them. "I thought it was good for business. What's the difference this year?"
"I just don't feel like it this year." He mutters, rather broody.
Shelby finally finishes his meal and sets down his cutlery. He gathers everything up before making his way over to his girlfriend and slipping them under the running water.
The glimpse Lynette catches of him is not one of happiness and, though she does not quite understand the reason behind it, she does not press it just yet. He takes his place beside her, tea towel in hand and begins to dry and stack beside the drainer.
"So, what would you like to do instead?" She tries again, this time a different angle. "We can have a date night, or we could visit your parents."
The blond shrugs. "I'm OK with doing nothing."
"We can't not celebrate it." Lynette tries a light-hearted laugh, but it comes out strained and false. "I mean, it's your birthday!"
"It comes once a year, Lynette. There is no reason for stress." He gives a little shrug, despite the slight edge on his voice.
Shelby continues to dry the dishes, refusing to look at his girlfriend as he pretends to be hyper focused on the task at hand. He does not look to his side as he pretends that he cannot see her stare at him with her mouth slightly open in surprise.
"You're being serious, aren't you?" The pink-haired woman spluttered.
The rhetorical question hangs between the two of them as she wipes off the suds from her hands and swipes another towel to dry them.
"It's not a big deal, Lynette. It's just another day, just like any other. It is illogical to treat it as if it was anything other than that." He stated, coldly.
The woman angrily holds up her finger as she glares at him.
"Don't you dare give me that stupid excuse of 'being illogical' that you love so much, and don't tell that you're not bothered, either. I might be a little distracted, but I've seen the magazine pictures on previous years. You love celebrating it. What's so different about this year?" Lynette asks, not just a little bit angry.
The words fall from her mouth just before realisation sinks in that the only thing different about his personal life is her. Horror sets on her expression, as she places the towel on the sink and walks over to the bar to have a seat.
He knows she has pieced it together by the dreadful look on her face, an expression that echoes the sinking feeling of her heart. The hurt burns throughout her, clenching at her heart and holding it in a vice like grip as possibilities of what that means floods her mind.
"It's probably not as horrible as you're thinking." Shelby defends himself against an accusation that has not been levelled yet.
Immediately, a pair of cerulean blue eyes glare against his face.
"So why don't you tell me your reasoning? Because, from where I'm standing, it doesn't feel too good to be me right now." Lynette almost shouts at him.
He had never seen her so hurt. Desperation began to crawl on his throat, and he began to fear that he would blurt out something stupid. Again.
"I haven't even said anything!" Shelby raises his voice.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he realizes that, once again, his eloquence failed him when he needed it the most.
"Yet, you seem to have said everything." Her words come out as a bite.
The wince that he makes upon them shows it had landed perfectly.
He sighs and caresses his own brows. "I don't want to argue over this. I just didn't want to celebrate, it's not a bad thing."
"But I'm asking you why is it so." Lynette counters, also weary. "If it's not because of me, just say so."
"I can't tell you that because, in a way, you are linked to it." His words are out in little more than a whisper, and he puts down the towel. "If I tell you something, I need you to listen. Please?"
The woman moves her tongue around her quickly drying mouth as dread takes over. It was a reasonable request, but it was also very ominous. She does not trust herself to speak, so, instead, she gives him a small nod instead.
Shelby sighs heavily. "I know this is going to sound stupid, but I realise now, with each passing birthday, that I'm getting older and I'm conscious of the fact that, at some point, that is going to be even more obvious than it already is."
"Well, so will I." She states, as she is almost sure that this is what was going to happen with her new human body, and probably at a natural pace. "It's not just you who is aging here."
"But you don't look older than my mother." The man spits out.
With that charged sentence, what he is trying to say begins to sink in. Her mother was the goddess of beauty, not that he would believe it anyways, and she had the unnerving ability to make one insecure about their appearance.
Shelby has met most of her celestial family over the past year or so, and Venus probably made an impression on him, coupled with the fact that her visit coincided with her "birthday" in February, which reinforced and settled her fake age on his mind.
Of course, Lynette is much, much older than him, but he does not know that, and, again, would not believe it if she told him. It might be a little cruel of her, but it was best if he believed that he was that much older, and try to reassure him of the fact that she did not really care for how many sun cycles he had lived through.
Which she really, really did not.
"You knew there was an age difference between us." The pink-haired woman phrases it carefully. "If it was an issue, why did you decide to seriously pursue me?"
"Because I want you. I'm attracted to you. I'm in lust with you. I love you. That has not changed. That will not change." He stated, even more serious and direct than he usually is. "But, and I cannot help but wonder, how long are you going to look at me and not see someone who is that much older? How long until that is an issue between us?"
Lynette smiled softly. "I won't, and it won't be an issue. I promise you that."
"That is the problem. You cannot promise me that. You do not know that." Shelby countered, bitter. "You want babies and marriage and everything that goes with that, but you might not always want me. What if I'm not the one who can give you that?"
Frowning, the psychologist tries to work out what she could say in response to that statement.
In a level, she understands where this is coming from. It is exactly the same baseline insecurity that fed his obsession with status and work for all these years as a so-called Parasite. This man, honestly and earnestly, believes that his existence has no value beyond the beauty, money and status that he can provide into a relationship, whatever its nature.
Lynette sighs. The more they evolve, it seems, the more her boyfriend seems shackled by those experiences. It is naïve of her to expect that she would break that habit of his so quickly, but one could hope, right? In any case, it is best to make an educational experience out of this emotional quagmire.
"Shelby…" She says his name with a seriousness that was much uncharacteristic of hers. "Have you ever wondered how much this belief of yours deeply offends me?"
Her question throws him off guard. The blond man blinks several times as various expressions all change his features until he settles on confusion. His fingers drum the countertop while the other hand rests at his waist.
"No, I… Have not." He responds, insecure. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I can tell you haven't. If you had, even for a second, you wouldn't have told me such a thing with a straight face." The woman responds, very calmly.
The company president frowned pronouncedly. "You asked me what I was feeling and I told you. I cannot be blamed for it."
Lynette chuckled, much to his frustration. "Indeed. You can't help yourself, but it doesn't mean that you have been selfish."
He glared at her. "Why so?"
"Well, think it this way, if I told you that, despite your many, many assurances, I still think that you think that you are going to leave me for some magnate's daughter to further your business?" She offered, candidly. "What if I believed that I am just a mistake at a party away from being dumped? What would you feel?"
Shelby opened his mouth to protest heavily, but then closed it back again and thought long and hard about what his girlfriend had said. Finally, he opens it again to respond.
"I see how what I said could be construed that way." He admits. "I am sorry for that."
"I know, and that's OK." Lynette smiles pleasantly at her boyfriend. "I'm not going to hurt you, at least not intentionally and not in that way. I want a future with you. I don't care that you are older. I just want to love you like I know that you love me. I don't plan to go anywhere unless you send me away. I want, if you let me, to grow old with you. Are we clear?"
"Crystal." He smiled sadly.
"Good."