Night Lotus

The swan

N/A: Swan Lake, Op. 20: I. Scene. Tchaikovsky

Six months later, the Night Lotus invited me to his first presentation. It would be his début as lead dancer for the new company he had entered.

He would play the White and the Black Swan for their boy-to-boy version of "Swan Lake." They kept the idea of using masks and alias since the company changed management, and they thought it would be great for marketing.

It was.

The Night Lotus expected to succeed and kindly put a couple of tickets under my alias for the premiere. However, he was wrong, and it was a blast, and there were no more tickets after a couple of days.

I went with my older brother, who laughed when he saw my struggle while collecting our tickets under Clair de lune.

The public loved the show, of course. I had a fair understanding of the ballet nuances by then, and I believed it was superb. I felt all the white swan's sadness and happiness and the black swan's anger and pain. My brother and I burst into tears by the end of it, and we were not the only ones.

I decided to leave him some flowers I had brought for the occasion. Being unsure whether to do it or not, my older brother assured me it would be fine.

I hesitated for not having a mask, but then, I felt it would be like a gift for him, my undivided trust of revealing my face to him without asking the same in return.

The theater was big enough to gather many people in the lobby and have some hard-core fans finding their way to the dressing rooms.

I gathered the courage to walk through that sea of people and dancers - some in their best galas and others with masks and ballet costumes.

When I finally managed his door - white & black swan dancer - lead dancer - I was shaking, my heart was in my ears, and I couldn't feel my feet.

I tried to calm down and breathed many times, pushing away my second thoughts. I managed to knock on the door, but no one replied. Yet, I heard something, or I thought I did.

— Night lotus, are you there? Clair de lune, here.

Nothing, sadly.

— I'll leave you some flowers. Congratulations!

As I bent over to leave the flowers in front of his door, I heard footsteps approaching and a heavy sigh behind the door wing.

— Don't go, Lune.

I stood still after that because that was the way Night Lotus called me, and I muttered my reply. We started to talk separated for the plywood panel.

— I'm here, Loty.

— Thanks for coming.

— I wouldn't miss it.

— Thanks for the flowers. What are they?

— Can't you guess?

— Did you bring lotuses?

— Six Blue stars.

— Really?

— Mmm.

Seconds passed but felt like centuries. My heart was pounding like a wild horse over the hills*. It was beyond my understanding, but the Night Lotus' voice had me pending on a string. (*N/A. Charles Bukosky's Days run away like horses over the hills)

There was a sound behind the door, and then it opened. The Night Lotus was holding the knob and waving me in with his white swan mask on.

— They're mesmerizing.

Like you, I thought but didn't find the courage to say it aloud.

— Mmm.

He closed the door and took the blue stars, placing them in a jar.

— You are not wearing a mask. — The Night Lotus said, inviting me to sit on the couch, following me seconds later.

— Mmm. A token of trust.

— I see. — My friend sighed and, after some seconds, raised his hands and took his mask off. — My token of trust. I'm Wanyin.

— I'm Wangji.

We smiled like the old friends we were, fond of each other and happy to meet finally.

I stared at those pale blue, almost gray, eyes as one stared at the bright full moon in a starry night.

It was until someone knocked on the door that we broke our gaze, he put the mask on again, and I made myself to the door.

— Congratulations. I cried my eyes out, Loty.

Then, he gave me the widest and brightest smile that I had ever seen. For a moment, the whole world hung in there.

— Thank you, Lune.

I'm in love; I thought as I walked my way up to the living.