Soloists

Part 2: Tomasz #1

I looked at Victoria sleeping in my bed, feeling the remorse coming out from somewhere in the depths of my mind. How long will I deceive her that there is something between us? Or maybe she knows, but she is so attached to me that she pretends to be indifferent to my betrayals? I didn't know, but I was starting to get tired of it.

We started working for Peter about five years ago, we were still young dancers with few significant episodes in small European theaters. It was only with Peter that we managed to stay for a longer time and even to settle down. Since then we've been in what you might call a "relationship based on based on sex". I mean in the beginning maybe it was different, maybe I even wanted a warm relationship, but then the band changed quickly, and I chenged probably even faster. Girls were coming and going, and I was attracted to each one and each one was attracted to me. After the first betrayal there were screams, tears and regrets, Victoria was angry, and I felt that I had failed and I wanted to make it up to her. She forgave me quite quickly, but for me it was a kind of permission for new challenges. The first end of "us" came very quickly, the smell of strange perfume in my bedroom left Victoria no doubts, while I did not even deny it. I went back to her several times afterwards, and she let me into her bed quite easily. After a while we agreed that our relationship was based on friendship, and from time to time we would remedy our needs. Thinking this would be easy and to the benefit for both of us, I pushed away the idea that Victoria was doing all this for other reasons.

Now I stood over her, looking at her slightly exposed body, that was writhing beneath me with pleasure in the night. I stopped my gaze on her lips and my body immediately reacted to the memory of what she was doing with them. I took some air in my lungs and very slowly let it out. As I exhaled, thoughts of things left me, I didn't have time for right now.

- I have to finish this - I whispered, taking the bag standing by the door and went out.

I ran down the stairs to the living room. Marcus was sitting at the kitchen island eating breakfast. At the sight of me he shook his head with a smile and went back to eating what looked from a distance a dark gray mush.

- Is Blanka making you eat that mud again? - I asked without greeting as I approached the coffee machine, and when I turned around I realized what I had just said.

Marcus was the man who knew more about me than my parents. We met in Madrid, where we grew up actually in the same backyard, because our houses were very close to each other. We went to ballet school together and later we came to Warsaw and together we got a job here with Peter. This is the best company I could have dreamed of and even the job offer at the Royal Ballet in London was not enough to get me out of here. My friends were surprised that I didn't want to dance at the Royal Ballet, or anywhere else in the world, but I enjoyed working with Peter. Maybe Warsaw is not London, but it suited me. Marcus has also become attached, except that he has become attached to Blanka. Since they've been together, he's learned Polish so well that only his Spanish "s" was a reminder of his Madrid origins. He had fallen in love with this girl, but I don't think he knew it himself yet. I didn't want to broach the subject, because every time I said Blanka's name in my mouth, Marcus would get angry and I'd end up in a fight. Yeah, I know, I was an asshole because I fucked her and dumped her like any other woman, but at the end she found solace in Marcus' arms. "You should be grateful for that," I said one day, and I was just picking myself up from the floor a moment later when Marcus' knockout hook knocked me down like a dummy. Marcus was quite powerful for a dancer and I had felt that more than once, even though I wasn't small myself. Still, we were best friends and I could talk to him about everything, although often his opinion on my actions was, to put it mildly, different. However, he never preached to me about changing my value system or any other such considerations. Basically, Marcus was a good buddy as long as I didn't insult his girlfriend or her friends. In Blanca's case, just saying her name without proper devotion, involved smoke belching of from the Spaniard's ears.

Therefore now, standing at the express, I expected a rather intense reaction of my friend, and what was my surprise when he came up to me and, swallowing the last bite of food, patted on my shoulder saying:

- I would eat even you out of her hands, Gabi.

I looked at him reproachfully. I hated that diminutive of my name, and I hated my own name, the first one, I didn't like my first name either. My parents had the panache to give it to me. Gabriel. That couldn't even be diminutive in a manly way. The 27-year-old guy they call "Gabi," just great. That's why my friends called me Tom, because my middle name was Tomasz.

Seeing the look on my face, Marcus laughed and walked over to the sink.

- Can't you see that she has you wrapped around her finger? - I asked, using a triviality to emphasize that I was worried.

Marcus did the dishes for a moment and then turned towards me and said thoughtfully:

- Or maybe I want her to wrap me around herself. I want to be at her every whim. I want her to need me. I want to eat the mud and see her smile when I praise her cooking.

- Oh fuck! - I snapped out of it, and Marcus just smiled.

- Yeah, I know - he nodded. - I'm in love Tom.

I stood there not saying anything for a good minute until the silence was broken by Marcus patted me on the shoulder.

- Thanks for the support, man - he sighed happily.

On the one hand I was happy to see my friend in such euphoria. Besides, I had long wanted to talk to him about what was going on, but on the other hand I didn't want to lose my friend. Of course I can't say that Marcus has moved away from me, since he's with Blanka. We've been seeing each other just as often, but I felt like that might change soon. I could sense it in Marcus' tone. He's going to propose to her.

- I'm leaving - I chuckled while finishing off my coffee. I packed some sweet buns and grabbed the keys to the car. - Tell Victoria to lock up when she leaves - I added coolly already at the door.