I was still furious at Ace by the time the meeting with Bill had ended and we had cemented when we were going to first leave for the tour and so on. Scowling, I stormed into my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me hard enough to make the pictures rattle on the walls. I kicked my shoes off, wanting to slam my fist into the wall, before I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
Shaking my head, I walked into my bedroom, yanking open the top drawer of my bedside dresser and grabbing the polaroid she had sent me. Ace was wrong. She was beautiful, she was gorgeous. He was just jealous.
I mean maybe Jeanette had bigger tits, or more curves, or whatever, but it didn't matter. She couldn't hold a candle to Bea, not when looking at all of them. No one could hold a candle to Bea.
With a soft sigh, I set the polaroid back in the drawer, shutting it. Maybe she wasn't perfect, but she was perfect in my eyes, and she was mine, and we loved each other. What else mattered?
The phone rang and I lunged for it, hoping it was Bea. "Hello?"
"Hey Gene," Paul said, and I bit back a sigh. It wasn't that I didn't want to hear from him, necessarily, but obviously I'd much rather talk to my girlfriend rather than my best friend.
"Oh, hey. What's up?" I asked, leaning against the desk and absentmindedly twisting my finger through the cord.
"I was just...there's a symphony orchestra performing this weekend, I was wondering if you--I had some extra tickets so--"
"Oh! If you're willing to spare two I'd really appreciate that, Bea would love to go I'm sure! She's always on me about taking her on more romantic dates, and I feel like a symphony is pretty up there in terms of being classy and romantic and all," I said.
There was a pause before Paul cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm sure she'll love it! Just swing by sometime before Saturday at 6, I'll give you the tickets. Something came up and I wasn't able to go myself, so it's nice they're not going to waste."
"You're the best for that, thanks a million," I said, and we said our goodbyes before hanging up.
I called Bea as soon as I hung up, leaving a message asking if the symphony would work, already counting down the hours until 6pm on Saturday.
A day passed and I still hadn't heard from Bea, but I decided to just go to Paul's place to grab the tickets anyway, figuring she'd call me soon, or find some other way to reach me. Sure enough, Paul greeted me at the door with an envelope, a small box, and a thin smile on his face.
"She wanted to surprise you," he said, handing them both to me. "I'm sure you two will have a great time."
"We will," I said. "Thank you for the tickets. I seriously owe you one."
He only smiled half-heartedly, mumbling a goodbye before shutting the door, not even giving me a chance to ask how he had been. I looked at the box, opening the lid and smiling. There was a boutonniere of a white rose inside, along with a note in Bea's handwriting.
I couldn't find Bleu Magenta roses, so I'll have to settle for a white corsage this time so we match. I'll meet you at the symphony!
A lovesick sigh escaped my lips and I smiled, tucking the note in my pocket. Saturday felt like an eternity away, and frankly couldn't get here soon enough.
Three days later, I found myself standing outside the symphony hall, dressed in a suit with the boutonniere pinned to my lapel. A delicate hand slipped into mine and I turned to find Bea standing beside me, eyes shining.
"Hi. I missed you," she murmured, kissing me on the cheek before giggling. "Sorry, I left a mark," she said, licking her thumb and wiping away the lipstick.
It was cherry red, the same color as her dress, with off the shoulder straps helping to draw the eye to her breasts, which I was more than happy to admire, a corsage of white roses on her wrist.
"You can leave as many marks on me as you want," I said in a husky voice, and she clicked her tongue reproachfully, straightening my tie.
"You're an absolute menace, you realize that?" she asked, but her eyes were still sparkling with mirth.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll be on my best behavior tonight my dear," I said, slipping an arm around her waist, resting it a little lower than the other couples I could see, but she didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
I handed the usher our tickets, following him to our seats. Paul had gotten some very nice seats, up in a private box to the right side of the theater. Bea shifted closer to me, hooking her arm through mine, and I rested a hand on her thigh, kissing her softly on the cheek.
"I love you," I said, and she smiled, rubbing my arm absentmindedly.
"And I, you. You've started to turn into quite the romantic. I'm impressed."
"I told you, I'll do anything for you," I murmured.
The lights dimmed before she could say anything, putting a halt to our conversation, and we turned our attention to the orchestra.
It was perfect to be sitting there beside each other in the dark theater, watching the musicians play. We weren't speaking, just holding each other. She was comfortable against my side, fitted perfectly, and all I wanted was to have her warm body in my arms, dancing to the music with her.
As the song finished and the next one began after polite applause, Bea perked up, leaning forward in her seat.
"Oh, Beethoven's Romance, I love this piece. It's all about...yearning for the infinite, and searching for tranquility and freedom. The melancholy of lost, unrequited love," she murmured in a thoughtful voice, gazing wistfully at the stage, and I did my best to commit that fact to memory.
For a moment, the idea of playing that song at our wedding slipped into my mind and I shuddered, brushing it away. It was much too early for that. And I didn't want to get married to anyone anyway. Marriage was pointless, it wasn't worth it in the slightest.
But all the same, if she asked me to marry her, I'd say yes in a heartbeat.
