Opera House

Act IV. Scene II.

CONT.

I walked to where Win was sitting. Slouching by the record nook. Small, and vulnerable. I took his hand in mine, hoping it was enough to give him comfort. My eyes pierced through his whole sullen façade, but he failed to meet my gaze. I tipped his chin up.

"Win. Listen to me." I sat in front of him, still tracing circles by the back of his hand.

"You're gonna go out there, train a hundred times hard, dance your heart out, and you're going to leave them all in awe. You're eventually set out to dance alongside those prima ballerinas," Win smiled brokenly.

"The moment you told me you got in, I was over the moon! I'm just--I'm genuinely happy for you. My dance prodigy, my little Win, you're about to move to Europe and dance with the Brits! You've made it this far and you're about to embark on a whole new journey, Win, and for that, I'm immensely proud."

I was holding onto him for dear life, savouring what could be the last few moments with him.

"Bright, what are you saying?" Win shook his head, as if already in somber disbelief over something I hadn't said yet.

"I just want you to know that I'm proud of you,"

"No. You're saying goodbye."

I thought I've braced myself for the torment of losing Win. Its hard detaching yourself from the person whom made you his meticulous diary, much like Tchaikovsky's anguished scribbles on his. Knowing that I'm no longer going to be that person for him had me believing that maybe, then and there, the heartbreak and mental anguish could lead me to my bitter demise.

"All those times, when you felt like giving up, skin all torn and feet covered in blisters, those days where you felt like you weren't enough, your performance wasn't good enough. None of those matter now, Win." My forehead touched his, my hands clasping onto the nape of his neck like it was the only string keeping me altogether.

"Everything you've sacrificed and bargained for all came into fruition. You go fulfill your dreams, for you. For your Mom. And at the end of the day it won't include me no more. This is all you now, love."

"No. You're not saying that. You're not giving me much of a choice, Bright!"

"I'm giving you a way out."

Win avoided my gaze and tilted his head in spite. "That's not what I want!"

"But you need it,"

I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I gave you a very hard time. And I will spend all my days making up for it, apologizing for it. I'm doing you a favour now love."

Win suddenly sits up, and makes a beeline to the window. He stood, shoulders slump as his gaze met with the dimming night sky outside. The quiet and the eeriness pulsed in a series of deafening agonies.

The air searing around was as inconsolable as the anguished pitches and slopes of Tchaikovsky's Symphonies. A cry of pain. A fade out to oblivion.

"No, no no." Win's denial closed in on him this time. Sobs started wracking his body, his shoulders shaking.

"You'll end up hating me, Win."

"Says who? Have you no trust in me?" Win dismisses.

I shook my head. "Its not that,"

"What then, Bright? You're quick to jump into conclusions."

"We're going to be miserable," I said, above a whisper. We were already miserable enough, its only going to add fuel to the fire if we'd prolong it.

He muttered out onto the distance, avoiding my presence behind him. "Bright, I love you. I love you so damn much. You can't do this to me."

"I'm doing this not because I don't love you. God, I love you so fucking much, Win. I love you more than anyone else, far more than anything else in this world. I don't think I could love anyone as much as I love you." I mustered the courage to reach out and touch him. My hands found its way to his body, embracing him from behind but Win made no move to touch me back and reciprocate. He stood there frozen with his tears.

I spoke quietly. "But I know you have your dreams to chase too, I know just how important ballet is to you. You can't put your dreams on hold for me, much less worry for my sake." Planting a light kiss to his neck, Win leaned in for a beat.

"I just--I thought I can make it right. I want to make it right. You promised me, Bright. You'll walk with me anywhere. You promised you'd stay with me. I thought I made sense of it. That maybe you're just having a hard time here in Bangkok, that maybe if you came with me, everything's going to be alright. That we'll be alright. It was clear in my head. I want to still fight for us,"

Suddenly, I have no control over my emotions, I've dabbled between putting up a strong front and breaking down my walls but the pain in Win's heavy sobbing unleashed the tears I wasn't able to cry for all the moments I should have.

"A-and I wanted to keep fighting too. But,--but I've hurt you too much, Win." I replied through my tears. "I don't think I could forgive myself if, we," I paused, trying to swallow the heavy lump in my throat.

"Say it."

I swallowed. "If--if we stayed together."

"You told me anywhere with me is good."

"Under different circumstances," I moved to face Win, his tear-stained cheeks red. "I've hurt you too much that I just want to see you free of all the burden. To be finally free from all the damage I've caused." My hand found his and soon enough it resembled two tied ships, only this time, the ravenous and turbulent winds are trying to break it.

"You know I'd do everything for you, Bright."

I knew he would, and if he did, I just might banish myself altogether. Win lived and breathed ballet, worked hard and thrived enough to move to England. I knew what he meant by what he said, and no matter how it much it hurts, and even more when it hurts, it was a picture that doesn't anymore include me.

"And I, too. But think of yourself for once, Win. Just for once." Both of my hands caressed his face, Win leaned in and nuzzled to its warmth.

"I don't want to lose you."

I kissed his forehead, my lips lingering there. "You're not going to lose me."

"I already have."

It wasn't a make-believe promise bound to vanish into oblivion, for as long as I live, I will always carry a piece of Win with me. Even when he's leaving, and won't see me again, he won't lose me because my entire being is his. Just that I dug a deep hole for myself, and I should carry the burden and the consequences that came with it.

We've exhausted our time, and just like that, the metaphoric curtain encompassing this relationship,--falls.

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AUTHOR SPEAKS:

This isn't the last chapter yet.

"Curtain Call" and "Final Bow"  would be next.

We'll see you on the last part of the show. Stay on your seats.