On The Stage

XXIII

I spent half the night crying into the phone receiver talking to Kev. I lay in the darkness in my comatose room, being threatened by the sense of hopelessness of the situation. I just lay there, not even changed out of my dance costume. I called Kevin and immediately started crying bitterly. When the wolf heard about everything that had happened, he went into a long silence listening to me pull my nose and breathe loudly. I knew that he was also stressed by the situation. Nevertheless, he tried to comfort me. He said over and over again that after all, the king is not a juror. Whatever he would do he had no direct influence on the result of the competition. I knew, however, that His fucking Majesty the King had just ruined my chances of winning. I saw no other explanation for the situation. Perhaps he didn't like the American being better than his subject. Perhaps the Theorian King had no desire at all to grant an audience to an outsider from the United States.

I wasn't the only one surprised and confused by the situation. The friendly professional journalists who were invited to the castle quickly published the information that the king had left the opera house during my performance. However, they did not make any conjecture or comment on it in a thousand ways. The situation, however, was different with the tabloids, which, after receiving news of what had happened, quickly began to create dozens of pieces of content of questionable factual quality. Journalists, such as Michał, whom I already know, speculated that I might have offended His Majesty the King. They wrote that I probably didn't understand the idea of the competition and I did some dramatically bad dance. But that was not true. The dance invented by Apolonia was beautiful, touching and dramatic. It had no right not to be liked by anyone. And yet. Fuck, and yet.

I had been getting a lot of messages on Messenger from Aurelia, Elizabeth or Randal since early morning. I didn't know what to write back to them, but they lifted my spirits slightly. They repeated what Kevin had told me, that the king was not a juror. Aurelia wrote that even if His Majesty came on stage, stood next to me and shit on the dance floor in front of everyone, it wouldn't matter to the jury. It made me laugh, although I laughed through my tears. I also heard from Rayan.

The boy's message was short and to the point. He asked if I wanted to talk to him. But what was I supposed to say to him? "Hi Rayan. You were right, I should have dropped out of the contest. And besides, I kissed Kevin" ? I really wanted to talk to the doberman but I knew I didn't have the slightest right to do so until I told him what I had done. It made me feel even worse. I felt really, really bad. The little spark of hope that was still smoldering inside me was now no longer exuding even the tiniest tongue of fire. All that was left of that spark was a thin, barely visible wisp of smoke, which was also about to vanish in a moment. I knew that all was lost.

I didn't reply to the message. I just read it and put the phone down to further wallow in my depressive lying in bed with my face pressed against the pillow. It was then that the phone vibrated once again. I lazily grabbed it and looked at my message box. Once again, Rayan had written to me. His message read - "Don't ignore me. Write back because I know you can't be fucking alone right now."

I felt even more terrible. Even more despicable. The boy, unaware of what I had done, despite our arguing and not speaking to each other broke through. He stepped out of his comfort zone and held out his hand. And me, I fucking betrayed him the moment my lips made contact with Kevin's.

"I kissed Kevin." - I wrote back.

Rayan immediately displayed the message. I could see that he was available and that the information had reached him. I, on the other hand, started crying again. I wasn't able to pretend that nothing had happened. I just wasn't especially because he finally spoke to me. When things were bad between us, we didn't talk to each other, somehow it was easier for me to think about it. Somehow, it was easier for me to pretty much ignore the fact that I myself had, with full knowledge, exchanged hot kisses with my half-brother. But now, now that Rayan was finally willing to shatter this morass between us, when he showed me that despite our argument, another damn argument he was still worried about me... then I couldn't stand it. I was literally tearing my hair out of my head and squealing to myself. Whatever happened, no one deserved to be betrayed. The feeling hit me in the face with such impact that I cringed to myself staring at my phone screen. Do I regret that kiss? I don't know, I don't fucking know. I regret the fact that I did it while still in a relationship with Rayan. For two days I managed to dismiss the thought because there was just too much going on. But now, when it felt like everything was crashing and sinking into the ground and Rayan was reaching out a hand to me so I wouldn't lose myself I felt like the worst monster. I wanted to punish myself somehow, but I didn't know how. Maybe the fact of the hopelessness of this whole situation was some message sent from the world to me? Maybe the World wanted to tell me by this that no sins fade or are forgotten? Maybe it was this fate that brought Apolonia to the castle and brought the king out of the chambers of the opera house to punish me?