Let There Be Peace

Chapter 7

"I don't know what you're talking about," Paz told Soul as they sat in the center of the practice room floor. "I talked to Keeho. He said he was fine with it," she continued.

"But did he actually say he was okay with it, or did you just assume that since he didn't say anything at all?" Soul countered.

"I don't know. I thought he said it, but maybe I'm misremembering, but anyway, why does it matter?" she questioned. "I mean, yeah, I would feel bad if I knew he liked me, but I don't see how it changes anything between you and me," she added.

"But it does," Soul replied. "It changes things for me a lot. I have to get along with Keeho. I live with him, for crying out loud. I can't just ignore how he feels."

"So, what do you mean that it changes things?" Paz asked, feeling her throat go tight.

"I mean, I think we need to take a step back. I think we should just work on the dance competition without the other component of our relationship right now," he answered. He had spent all night pondering it. He really liked Paz. There was no doubt about that, but his desire to smooth things over with Keeho was taking precedence at the moment. If there was one thing Soul hated, it was conflict. He avoided it at all costs.

"The other component of our relationship?" Paz repeated. "What does that mean exactly? Are you saying we can't keep dating?" she asked.

"Not right now," Soul clarified. "I just feel like I need to give Keeho some time and space to sort through his feelings."

"Oh, how kind of you," Paz remarked dryly. "You're just a great humanitarian, aren't you?" she quipped. "I'm glad Keeho's feelings mean so much to you," she concluded sarcastically. Apparently, Keeho's objections held more weight than their budding romance. Paz didn't want to feel bitter, but she did. She couldn't deny that she felt cast aside, much like she had felt when Jeong had left her. Not that she was comparing Soul to Jeong. There was no comparison between them as people, but both of their departures had left her feeling raw and wronged. She was caught off guard by the decision Soul had made to step back. And yet, she still had to act like a professional. She straightened her spine and told herself, Compartmentalize, kid! Never let him know that he has the power to hurt you.

But aloud the only thing she said was, "Well, let's focus on the competition, then." Paz stood up, despite the slight tremor she felt in her knees. "I had some more thoughts on the choreography," she said, sounding as breezy as she could with the Earth-sized lump in her throat.

Soul stood as well. "Lay them on me," he encouraged. He was glad that Paz was taking it so well, but he had to admit that he had held out a slight hope that she might fight harder for him. He believed in what he was doing in giving Keeho some time, but he still was a man who had his pride. He had hoped that his news might have saddened her a bit more than it appeared to have done. But that was just his wounded pride talking. It was unfair to expect her to suffer just to make him feel better.

"So, I'm sorry," Soul pulled himself back to the present moment. "What were you saying about the choreography? You said you had an idea," he prompted.

Paz took a deep breath and plunged in. "So, the part that says that it's not real and you don't exist, we had talked about you being behind the sheer panel. I was thinking you could put your hands up and I would put mine against yours through the fabric. It's like we're so close, but separated somehow," she explained, willing her voice to remain steady. She scolded herself for feeling shaky. It's not like she had known Soul that long. She had gone through worse break-ups than this. So, why did she feel tears stinging her eyes, and why did her heart physically hurt?

"That sounds really good to me," Soul encouraged.

"And that brings us almost to the end of the song. I was thinking that you could come out from behind the cloth when it says about not being able to recall the last time she was kissed. Then, I thought, you could be holding me. And when she says that it hits her in the car, I felt like I should pull away from you, like something just struck me. I could hold your right hand and start to spin out of your embrace. By the time it says it feels like the end of a movie she's seen before, I will let go of your hand and sort of fall to the floor, leaving you standing center stage, alone," she explained.

Soul nodded gravely. "I think it goes well with the feeling of the song because she feels like her relationships are so short-lived, and they always end with her devastated and alone," he analyzed.

"Exactly," Paz replied dully. "So, shall we take it from right before it says it's not real?" she suggested.

Soul nodded and got in place behind the sheer white panel of cloth. He held his hands to the cloth and Paz did the same. It felt like one of those scenes in a movie when one of the protagonists is in jail and the other comes to see them and they put their hands to the glass. It's the closest they can come to touching.

When Paz felt the warmth of Soul's hands through the cloth, she heard her breath catch slightly. After only a split-second of their hands touching, they moved to the side of the panel and Soul held her as she had described in her choreography.

When Paz tried to pull away slightly to begin to spin out of his embrace, he held tighter despite her instructions about letting her spin out and fall to the ground. Her eyes met his and he saw that the beautiful hazel marbles of her irises were surrounded by redness and tears that she refused to let fall. Paz pushed against his embrace.

"That's not how it ends," she told him before running from the practice room. He chased after her, but she ducked into the bathroom before he could catch her. He stood on the other side of the door and tapped lightly on it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned by her apparently emotional response. Was it the song or was it him? He wasn't sure, and he was afraid to ask.

"I'm fine," Paz said. What he could not see was that on the other side of the door, Paz had let the tears begin to fall. She slid her back down the door until she was sitting on the floor in a sad little pile just as she had imagined in her choreography. Here she was, alone again, sitting on a cold floor. And that's how the movie always ended. She wondered why she had expected a different outcome this time. It was foolish of her to think that her relationship with Soul would end any other way.

Soul pressed his ear to the door. He was sure he had heard a sob coming from the other side. "Are you feeling sick?" he asked. "Should I get you some water?"

"No," she called out from behind the door. "Why don't we call it a day and come back to it later?" she asked, hoping he couldn't hear the strain in her voice.

"Okay," Soul replied. "I'm just worried about you. I just want to know that you're okay," he continued.

"Look, I have my period," Paz lied. "Can you just go now?"

"Oh, okay," Soul finally conceded. The mention of the dreaded menstruation always served to run men off, Paz thought to herself. She congratulated herself on her quick thinking. When she heard Soul leave, she finally let her audible sobs explode. Since she had been holding it in, it came out with more violent force than she had expected, but she just let it come.

Several minutes later, Paz heard the bell on the door tinkling softly. She opened the bathroom door to see who had entered. As she stood in the doorway, her mascara smeared into charcoal rivers down her cheeks, she saw Soul standing awkwardly with a plastic bag. He held it toward her. She wiped frantically at her cheeks and then hesitantly took the bag. In it was a pack of pads and a hot water bottle like her grandmother had used for her cramps many decades before. She couldn't help but smile slightly at his sweet concern for her non-existent period.