A MUSE

9

"As I was saying, the building is silent. You only have two residents on each floor, but most apartments are empty. The owners just desire an address in Paris, a little-pied à Terre," the agent said.

They reached the last step, a man in a suit in his late twenties dashed down the stairs, followed by a topless young woman in black lace knickers shaking a bag while screaming, "Patrick ton déj."

"Mademoiselle Dussably," the agent shouted.

The young lady turned red and rushed back into her apartment.

"Quiet she said. I feel like we've stepped into the Jungle," Angelo whispered in Valery's ear.

"Mademoiselle Dussably, M. Vos-kro-ski here has bought the apartment next door and l'Atelier'" the agent continued.

Bewildered, the two men watched the agent talking to the closed door.

Mrs.Renoir then turned and smiled at them, "eh, Miss Dussably is a house sitter," she said in a lowered voice as if it were a shameful deed.

"Gentlemen, shall we step in?" The woman opened the door to Valery's 300m2 apartment, "as you can see, all the walls are in the colors you asked for."

"Wow, Valery, this is beautiful," Angelo said as he made a 360° turn in the vast living room.

The agent gazed around with pride as though she had repainted the walls herself, "your architect also added a dancing space in the workshop."

Angelo squeezed the man's arm, "Valery, mi Amor you didn't, did you?"

"I thought you would need a place to practice."

Angelo kissed Valery on the lips. The agent, dumbstruck appeared to be in a sudden rush, "I'll be leaving you then. Here is my card if ever you need and welcome to Mnemosyne."

Mrs. Renoir strode to the door without waiting to be accompanied. Once outside, she pulled on her tweed set's jacket and took out her phone. The two men could hear her speak.

"You didn't say he was gay; they just kissed in front of me. I swear I can't get used to these new trends."

•••

Valery was used to people assuming he was gay, with his long blond hair, slender figure, and job as a designer. Everything, including Angelo, his mascot, best friend, and lover, was stamped, GAY. Without forgetting his feminine name, Valery. When seen from behind, it was not rare for Valery to have someone call him Miss.

The man could not believe the agent's lack of discernment.

"Valery, this is it we're Paris," Angelo said while he did an arabesque followed by a 'pas de chat.'

Paris was their dream; Angelo was a multi-talented contemporary dancer who succeeded in getting engaged in a famous troupe. The hipster was also one of New York's most demanded urban Jet-setters and make-up artists.

The two men met in New York; it was love at first sight for Angelo. For Valery, it was a lot of lust followed by the conviction of having found his other half. Valery nourished a passionate, intense, and unforgiving love.

A diva, always on his heels, Angelo transpired sexuality which women envied and left men pondering their sexual orientation. He was also possessive, and the idea of having his Valery living in the heart of Paris, along with so many women but so many dick-crazed men as he called them, scared him.

Their relationship now stood on the edge of a cliff, but Angelo didn't have plans of letting go.

Hugging Valery from behind, he could only hope that his lover would come back to him in this new city. Angelo wished his feelings would attain the heart of the one who now lived for his passion for design.