Toris brushed his teeth for the third time that day. It was nearly six and there were only thirty minutes before the start of one of the dance department's weekly show; and this week the beautiful object of his affections was the lead. He had to be there, now that "Mr. Charisma" Alfred F. Jones was now fighting for her heart too.
He ran his hands through his shoulder length brown hair before adjusting his clothes and making sure that he was presentable to the woman of his dreams. With one last glance and a dash of cologne he headed out of the bathroom and into the main part of his dorm where Mr. Charisma himself was sitting at the foot of his bed playing on his game boy.
"Where are you headed?" Alfred asked without even looking up from his game.
Toris hesitated for a moment trying to decide if he should lie or not. "This week the dance department is putting on Giselle."
"Oh… will she be there?" he lowered his video game looking right at his roommate's face.
Again a hesitation, if he were to tell the truth then he knew Alfred would want to go to; which meant that that was more competition. Toris' loyalty and dedication to attended every performance that Nataliya was dancing principal in was the one leg up he had on his roommate. The other was all masculine, with muscles, and classic movie star good looks… and well Toris was not. The majority of women didn't go for the quiet guy, prone to stomach ulcers, with the "he so was a drama kid in high school" vibe (to make that worse he didn't even do drama in high school—even if Feliks constantly tried to convince him into doing it).
He decided to go with the truth, "Yeah," he nodded, "She's Giselle."
"Who's that?"
"If the ballet is called Giselle then the character named 'Giselle' is probably the leading role."
"Oh, right. Let me get dressed and come along." He hopped off of his bed picking up the first pair of jeans and t-shirt that he found.
Toris rolled his eyes, sure it was just a school function but the least he could do was toss on a ironed dress shirt and a pair of slacks. Not a t-shirt and pair of jeans that had not been washed in who-knew-how-long. "Al, the show starts in like twenty minutes and I still need to pick up some flowers before I head over to the auditorium."
"Bro, look I'm dressed and shit. Let's do this thing, and you can pick up your flowers before we head over there. Is Feliks coming along too?"
"He isn't really into ballet. Plus, it's Friday night so he'll probably be at the club with Elizabeta."
Alfred snickered as the two of them headed down the hallway, "Dude, Feliks isn't into ballet but you are. That's so weird."
"What's the supposed to mean, you're tagging along with me for this month's performance."
"That's because my future girlfriend is going to be there. I have to show her that I'm into her interests and junk, even if I'm not really."
"How does that make sense? How can you have the same interests if you're not interested."
"Use your imagination. So… do you think I should get Natalie some flowers?" Alfred asked as the two of them entered the corner drug store headed right to the little section of premade bouquets, "What do you think I should go with, roses?"
Toris selected the usual bouquet of mixed flowers from its respective bucket, "If that's what you think she would want." he shrugged. If Alfred went ahead and bought flowers too that was another plus for the blonde Adonis he called a friend. Quickly, Toris went ahead and reminded himself he had inside trader tips that came with knowing Nataliya for nearly fourteen years (oh and that she hated being called 'Natalie' that was a good way to end up with a broken nose).
"Yeah, I think I'll go with roses; Papa would always buy them for Dad when he spent a full paycheck on clothes."
"Did he really buy clothes like that?"
"Yeah, and shoes… wine too sometimes… honestly he spent a whole lot of money on a bunch of stuff. He's a totally addicted to shopping, it drove Dad insane. Like the number one cause of their fighting under the subtle nationalistic comments."
Toris sighed paying the girl at the counter and checking his watch. There was only fifteen minutes to go, "Al, we need to get moving."
"Got it," he went right out the door as fast as he could go while still walking. Toris had to jog to keep up with the other's long stride, "So how does this whole thing work?"
"What do you mean? We buy tickets, sit in the seats, and watch the performance. When it's over we pass our flowers up."
"They how will Nat know I got her these roses?"
Oh please call her that in front of her… and Natalie too while you're at it! Toris thought (though immediately after that thought he mentally scolded himself). "She doesn't really have to know." He said as the two of them walked up to ticket sales. Though, I'm normally the only one that does that. he felt no guilt at all for that last thought.
"I think I'll just go to her dressing room—"
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" Toris shouted in the middle of the sparsely populated auditorium. School functions were never really popular, especially when they were not mandatory and cost additional money (and everyone knows how precious every little bit of money is to college kids—especially those that were into the arts). Alfred stared at him for a moment blinking. "You can't do that. What would you do if you walked in on her changing?" he regretted the words of that last sentence before the first word was even out of his mouth. The blank stare his roommate now had on his face signaled that his thoughts were currently less than pure.
Luckily the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the music began pulling his attention to the stage.
Alfred sat there in the auditorium seat with the bouquet of flowers across his lap. The moment that the possible thought of seeing Nataliya partially clothed wore off and he was left wondering what exactly he was doing there. It was weird to think about; there he was sitting in the audience of a ballet performance. I am in the audience of a ballerina thingy! Alfred thought suddenly struck with panic as he turned around in his seat to scan all possible suspects of people he knew that would recognize him. He may have been raised by two mean, but he still had a reputation to up hold.
After analyzing the audience to the best of his ability in the dark (and an elbow to the ribs delivered skillfully from Toris) he turned around in his seat. Alfred looked up at the stage and there lit up by the lights front and center was the women he knew he wanted to be with. He was far from being a poetic young man (probably another quality of his that would make his over dramatic Papa pretend to faint) but there was something about her that made him want to change that. And yet there was a quality about Nataliya's costume that disappointed him…
"Toris," Alfred whispered over the arm rest, "psst, hey." He didn't notice when his roommate rolled his eyes. He just figured the other didn't hear him, "Yo, bro—"
"Hush, I'm trying to listen."
"What it's not like there are lyrics are anything man." He did hear the sigh in the other's voice, "I thought ballerinas were supposed to wear those tutu things. I can't like see her legs at all in that thing." He motioned towards the stage with his neck.
"They don't always wear those." And with that Toris turned his head back towards the stage and settled into his seat again.
Alfred turned to look at the stage again watching as Nataliya gracefully move around the stage. She was a beautiful woman in person, even when she was right in front of you pretending to not notice your existence. Or when she was kind of being a cold hearted bitch—but that just motivated him. Too many girls were too easy for him to charm; just a grin and they were interested. But this woman, she was a challenge, and while Alfred enjoyed his easy life up until now there was something about being challenged that motivated him. He supposed the thrill of the chase was kind of like how for chicks they wanted a project.
Alfred covered his mouth yawning. There was only so much of this ballet stuff he could handle before losing interest. Watching the girls of the dance department moving around on stage could only hold his attention span for so long. His school councilors has always told him he had ADHD; it wasn't Al's fault though that school was way too easy and seriously boring making video games or watching Star Wars for the hundredth time. And right now continuing on with watching this ballet was about as interesting as sitting through history class as they discussed the reading assignment he didn't do.
When the stage emptied and the lights came back up Alfred shot right up and started to clap, ready to head out to the hall and try to find Nataliya, give her the roses, and cross his fingers that he's put enough effort it to warm up her heart just a little bit. He glanced over at Toris who was still sitting and staring at him, then swung his head round at the rest of the people in the theater all looking at him like he was insane. Some old lady in a scarf, that would make his Papa cringe with its lack of style, was whispering to her equally as elderly and fashionably challenged friend.
"It's just the intermission Al." Toris said with a slight grin on his lips, then covered his mouth as he stood up trying to hide the fact that he was no grinning like an idiot.
Alfred turned to look at him confused, "What do you mean, didn't she just kill herself? How can there be more if she's dead now?"
"That's because there is more to it than Giselle just killing herself though her heart was broken." Toris stood up making his way up the aisle into the lobby. Alfred followed after him.
"So if Nat's character's dead now I can just give her these flowers ask her to dinner and bounce right? This stuff is way too boring for me to sit through if she's not going to be in it anymore."
"Only her part's not done yet."
"What do you mean?"
"She'll be a ghost now until her body can lay at rest," The brunet nodded stretching his arms up as the came into the lobby, "If it's boring then why are you sitting through it."
"Nataliya's into this sort of thing right? Isn't it her major?" he asked with that typical grin of his across his face, "I can suffer for her. And if we get married then it's going to be so weird, you know if I don't care about it. She'll probably want our kids to be into this stuff."
Toris just blinked looking at him with a touch of confusion. "Really Alfred, you complain about how much of a sissy that Feliks is and here you are talking about what it would be like to be married to a woman who hates your guts."
"You've got to be confident when it comes to this sort of thing man… confident and charming… there is some other stuff too you should take notes man when was the last time you dated anyone?
"I have my own methods…"
"Really? Do they work? I mean I am pretty talented when it comes to the ladies," he wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner that made Toris suddenly feel rather uncomfortable, "but I can always switch up my style, you know?"
"Yeah I am pretty sure I don't want to have this conversation right now." Toris said with a bit of a sigh shifting the flowers from his right arm to the left.
"Why not man? You're a pretty nice guy, you know. And not only am I comfortable enough with my heterosexuality to go to a ballet, but also comfortable enough to tell you that you're not bad looking. That hair cut makes you look like a bit of a sissy, but my bro and Papa both have girl haircuts like that and they get chicks."
"I thought your father was gay." He raised an eye brow.
"Naw man he's bi. Dad's the gay one and the fact that Papa is into chicks too and it drives him insane. Just adds to the things that they fight about, which adds to the entertainment factor of heading back home on brakes. But whatever about that my main goal right now is to get the details on how you do things."
"I just act like myself…?"
"That sounds okay like a good start, what else?"
"That's just it?"
"What?" Alfred scratched his head, "how many girls has that gotten you."
"Uh, none yet," he then quickly added, "I'm sure it will though you know?"
"So wait… does that mean that you are a virg—"
"Oh look!" Toris quickly said marching his way back to the auditorium, "the show's about to start again."
"Bro, seriously you haven't been laid before have you!" the look on Alfred's face was a combination of shock, confusion, pity, and a touch of admiration. "Man, you've got to tell me is there anyone that you are into? I'll help you get her trust me—"
"Shut it. The lights are dimming."
"Man give me a name, I'll help you get this girl."
"Al, not now—"
"Come on."
"Nataliya Braginski." The moment the name left his mouth Alfred fell silent staring up at the stage just in time for the music to swell and the curtains to open.
Toris couldn't pay attention any longer. In less than ten minutes his roommate had not only learned that he not only maintained his virginity (which as a male over the age of sixteen was downright shocking) but also that he too was in love with Nataliya. The mental declaration of war that Toris had made earlier on in the week after learning that Alfred too had fallen for the fair haired, beauty was now elevated. There went any sort of chance he had in using the things he had learned about her over the course of his years of knowing her to sabotage the other (then again the fact that the other was like completely oblivious to like everything could still play in his favor).
He was having trouble sitting there next to the other happy that he could retreat to his bed with the blankets over his head and hope that the other would forget about it. Or he could send Feliks a text and hope his best friend was willing to cut his usual Friday night partying short, if he said it was a romantic crisis his best friend was sure to come to his aide. Feliks was a sucker for that sort of thing, even if he hated Nataliya's guts and had tried on a number of occasions to convince him she wasn't worth it. Plus the other was way sneakier and had a great fondness for plotting about those sorts of things.
As Giselle returned to her grave finally able to rest, Toris shot out of his seat and tossed his flowers on the stage before getting out of there as quickly as he could. Alfred called after him, but Toris ignored him plunging his hand into his pocket sending a text message to Feliks:
It's an emergency.
A short one, even if the other's mind was clouded by a bit of alcohol (despite his appearance Feliks was excellent at holding his liquor). There was also the fact that 'emergency' was a good word to use to catch anyone's attention, and texting was always the best way to get ahold of the other.
His phone vibrated. That was a faster reply then he was expecting.
omg r u lyke in da hospital?
Toris typed in his reply:
It's a girl thing?
He was regretting his choice of words for a moment before he received the other's reply.
come ovr. hvnt left yet
Toris let out a sigh of relief changes his trajectory to his best friend's apartment.