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Seto looked at his phone as he walked through the revolving doors, he felt like he just ended a book that was many chapters long. Seto walked towards his horse, and suddenly, he began smiling, thinking I could go anywhere in the world right now. As he stepped, each step his boots took, the swift of his walk, taking him further away from the life he used to live.
He sat on his bike seat, his helmet in his hands. He noticed a small blue bird that had swooped down in front of him on a ledge, and began to scan its surroundings. He looked at the beauty of the bird before his eyes then looked in through the cool windows of the hotel. The bird took one step, then another, then stood perfectly still, scanning. He looked at the bird’s eye and he felt as if the bird checked him out to see if he was friend or foe. Seto thought- “Friend.” As he lifted his hand for almost a greeting to the bird. At that second, she was back into the sky evaporating between the blue tinted windows and the even, deep, deceivingly neon blue sky that held the clouds which hid the golden rays behind them. He thought nothing of it, and crank his motorcycle.
A valet, a pudgy guy who had always been on the chubby side came over to him, belly first, and said, “Nice bike,” in a high pitched voice, his posture leaned momentarily almost as if he would wanted to ride that second. His red valet jacket stood polished and neatly kept, which took away the image that he was overweight. He glanced at him and said, “I'm thinking about selling it,” remembering his plans of undefined vacationing, and that he was in a hurry. The bike still ran as they spoke. It reminded him of the power, and love he had for it, even though it was just a machine. He thought- because it is a machine.
He thought about the time he first rode a bike- His brothers’ bumblebee 95 Honda that had problems that are still undiagnosed to this day. He also thought of how his friends all wanted to ride motorcycles, and at first he had no interest until first getting on the Honda and falling in love with the sound of the engine purring between his legs, the relative ease it took, and the speed.
The valet asked, “How much you want to sell it for?”
He thought to himself for a while then realized the valet came with a name tag, ‘Edward’. His thought was- He doesn't seem like an Edward but what does an Edward seem like? “Wise. Edwards is a wise name.”
He looked down for a second and thought to himself- “I really should be going,” before noticing the perfectly polished shoes of the valet and that everyone at this hotel was a gentleman on how they presented themselves down to their gray starched pants. Where at other hotels you would just see sweaty guys running around in khaki shorts.
“Give me your number and if you can come by and pick it up this weekend, if you want it, see I'm moving and would have no use for it then,” Seto said.
The bike being his last sense of his past that he held onto, he was all too eager to let go. “3 grand, and it's yours,” said Seto. The bike was worth easily 5x that.
The valet produced his phone and said, “I’m uh, have to check with my girlfriend.”
At that moment Seto knew he would not call.
“But expect a call,” the valet added.
Seto with his phone in his hand; he unlocked it and began typing into the valets number half-heartedly then text him his name, ‘Seto's bike’.
“Thanks I got you,” the valet voiced, and returned back to his post.
For a moment he thought he was going to receive a salute from the posture and correctness of this man. Waving off the valet. His phone begun to vibrate, and a tune came on. He had heard this before. His mind snapped on to it as if he orchestrated the tune himself.
‘Chopin 2nd symphony.’
Seto glanced at his phone and realized his screen blank. He checked his Jean pockets even though the way he sat he could tell nothing was there, then his jacket. In the left pocket was the envelope, it was it that played in harmony. He pulled it out, dug past the wad of cash, and pulled out the phone making sure not to spill a hundred while doing so. A message that said, “Have fun in Thailand.” He tucked the envelope, threw the phone to the ground, cracking it, and pulled off evaporating into the city’s traffic.
He kept on, going faster. He thought about slowing down, and then he said,
“No, faster.” He noticed the cars slow in front of him, he darted without thought, he went to the shoulder, and pushed past.
He kept on pushing, he'd gotten up to 100 miles per hour, now past that. His thought- I should slow down, but I have complete control. The engine screamed, as it was closer to reaching its limit. He looked back and seen how far away from the other drivers he was and slowed down for a second. His thought- this could not last forever. Followed by a thought of anger for slowing down at all.
“Here I am, do I really want to go to this country,” he asked himself. He remembered about a time when he used to travel with his family when things seemed simpler. He snapped back onto the road, gathering it was no time for daydreaming.
He pulled up outside the apartment seeing the red car he always saw, then pulled into the parking garage, into the shade where his horse felt safe.
“New message from Lise,” his Bluetooth helmet echoed in his ears. As he reached for his phone from his jacket.
“New message from Lise.”
Reading the two messages from his phone one said, “What, why?” the other said, “Just come.”
He had a faint smile forming whenever he thought of her. He typed in the letters
“F I N E”
And hit send.
He let the bike idle for a second while he collected his thoughts, cooling down as much for the vehicle, as for the rider. He cut off the bike abruptly as if the action itself could give him confidence. He knew what he was here for, he's going to tell one of his few friends, the truth.
Not yet fully believing, that today is the day we're done.
Chapter 4
Asleep
Sunday
He walked up the stairs, his phone in-hand as he checked the time-13:08; just passed 1.
He thought to himself, then he knocked on the door.
Nobody came to the door.
He knocked again, “It's me.”
She opened the door as if this was their first time meeting. He stood there looking at her eyes, in her eyes, he thinks, she's beautiful. Just a single thought that crossed his mind, the other’s being let's go, let's not wait, no fuck first, let’s smoke, and I love you.
“Hey,” she said, her voice soft, as if she had heard his sincerest thoughts. He walked in, gave her a hug, and their cheeks brushed against each other as he hugged her as this was the last time.
She noticed this, as they stood there hugging, as if time had stopped. Seto closed the door, as he held her hand, and walked over to the couch.
“Are you free this weekend?” he asked.
“Yes, probably,” she replied.
He said with an expression that couldn’t be identified on his face, “Do you feel like going out of town.” . . . He paused for a moment, studying her face, he said, “I'm going out of town.”
“Where are you thinking about?”
“I don’t know someplace relaxing, someplace good to smoke, I love smoking . . . well we don't have to smoke the entire time, but someplace that has plenty of water and sand.”
“We could smoke here,” she said, her face showed no enthusiasm.
“Really I was thinking Lise.”
She held her lip in between her teeth, as she felt the seriousness in his voice.
He said, “Of course, not forcing anything on you, if you must stay I understand, but I must go, this place has gotten too humdrum for me.”
She looked down at her shoes and then her eyes rose, and made it all the way up to the lines of his face. He leaned back tossing his cell phone to the side and stared at the ceiling.
“I want to feel alive,” he said.
“You don't know this, but in this very second I do, because I'm next to you,”
“But sometimes when I'm here I fe
el like we do the same thing, going to the same streets. . . I’m telling you, because I don’t know, I guess I like you,” he said, looking at his boots, with a smile on his face. Then his eyes moved over to the window, then back towards her.
She was looking back at him and she extended her hand, and they held hands. And they sat there for a moment in silence. He looked into her eyes and she kissed him, then their lips separate, and they kiss again. Their eyes closed only when their lips met, to open again when their lips separated. She leaned into him, as he placed his hand on her cheek and, kissed her again. He then stood up, walked away, and whispered, “I’m going to shower.”
Lise was still, she lay on the couch, moving her hair out of her face with her fingers, then turned to watch him walk into the bedroom. She had a thought- What did I do to deserve this guy or, how am I so lucky. She didn’t concentrate on it. She then thought- I might love him, then countered that thought by asking herself what is love. She thought- and answered, what I’m feeling now, there’s nothing better than this. This is not love it is too sweet, if love, it must be laced with a bit of lust. She chuckled coming to this conclusion.
She went to the fridge, grabbed a container of strawberries, her fridge was only stocked with bottled water and ice coffee, with a lone gallon of orange juice. Before she remembered that she had somewhere to be. Lise asked herself how much time had passed since he'd came? She glared at her watch at the realization of 5 minutes, it had been just 5 minutes. It had seemed to be thirty or, even an hour or two. The shower started running, and she snapped back. “Will I keep my friends waiting? Will I join him?” she questioned herself.
She stopped to think, took off her jacket and, folded it over her arm as if she were going to set it down. She then opened the door, walked outside and the chill of the hallway from the cooler weather made the decision for her. “Bring the 1jacket,” she told herself.
Lise stepped out the door, walked down the 3 flights of stairs to the parking garage, intentionally ignoring the elevator, and walked across the parking garage to the street where her bright red car was parked. She settled in to the car, crank it up, and headed down the street. She stopped at the crossroad, and watched as the other cars noticed her hesitation, and they proceeded willingly. She looked at the stop sign, exhaled and said, “What am I doing?” Then swung the car around and headed back toward her apartment.
On her way back up to the apartment, she took her phone out and, called her friend.
“Hi this is Sarah please leave a message,” her voicemail responded.
“Hey . . . I’ll be maybe an hour late, or two don't wait up love, love.” Lise said softly.
She took the elevator back up to the room, she held her red jacket and matching bag to her side. First nervously, she knocked on the door, then realized she had the key and twisted the knob open. She walked swiftly, her heels clicked against the grain floor, Glick click Glick click until she was now in her bedroom. She glanced into the shower from where she stood, and saw his hand pressed against the shower wall. She headed into the bathroom click click click, watching him shower through the glass curtain, and she began to remove her clothes. First she pulled her shirt over her head, then she's slid her heels off, click click as they drop to the floor. Her eyes were watching his, but even before he had noticed her presence, he had known she had never left. She then took her jeans off, at that moment he watched her unzip.
He tilted the shower knob of water, increasing the water temperature. They didn’t speak, nothing was said, but their eyes met as her grey jeans dropped to the floor. One leg at a time she lifted, freeing her toes from the denim. She could see his muscles from the transparent curtain. The water was still washing his body. He rinsed the coconut out of his hair, it was Lise’s choice of conditioner. He ran his fingers through his hair, as he turned to his side. He stared at her. Then she began walking back into the bedroom in nothing but lingerie.
He finished rinsing off, as he thought to himself- I want to, right now, I'm going to take her right now. He gave a moment for himself, as he was finished. The water was still dripping from his body and his long hair. He tried to shake some of the water from his head, and then combed it with his fingers, as was the only way he'd ever done. He looked in the mirror as he grabbed a towel, and began drying. He stared into his own eyes as he had done with everybody he had ever met. He walked towards the bedroom. He thought to himself- She is waiting for you.
He threw his towel on the bedroom floor. They were both completely naked, as they faced each other. The curtain drawn, the light from the washroom was the only present; giving her a silhouette of glowing, golden lines, while his, was just a glowing outline. He climbed on top of her. She told him to do so, not out loud. He grabbed her fingers from in between her thighs, and placed them in on his tongue.
His chest to her chest, he grabbed the blanket and threw it over them. He only had a single thought which was - she's warm so . . . so warm.
4:00 p.m.
He now stared into her eyes, she looked back into his, and he waited for a moment before beginning to speak. He knew what he had to do, he stopped, and looked into her eyes. She was still warming him, their eyes were no more than blink apart, their legs interlaced. He said, “I lied to you.”
“I know.” said Lise, with a faint smile.
“What?” as his eyes looked up to find her face.
“I know you’re not who you say you are, but sometimes were better off not knowing . . . as long as I know where your heart is.” He was completely still as she stared back smiling at him. He threw the blanket over them as he began kissing her chest, going towards her neck.
He gasped for air as he woke, “A dream,” he thinks. He heard glasses clattering in the kitchen, moments later she entered the room with two glasses of wine and a cigarette.
She sat them down, and climbed back into bed, looking into his eyes. “You’re sweating,” she said, as she kissed his forehead. He leaned back and said, “It’s nothing.” But, his eyes heavy, were now cast off the side of the bed and lie on the floor. “What’s the matter you missed me?” she asked gaily.
“Yeah,” he said playfully, as he watched her finish off her strawberry.
“Let’s just go come on, we can pack our bags and just leave I have enough money.”
“I don’t know I kind of like it here . . . and you know why I can’t do that,” she said.
“Because of Phil . . . I don’t see why you’re with that guy.”
“His name is George . . . and because he wants more than just sex.” She stood to go grab her drink, and handed the other to him.
“I want more than sex . . . Great sex,” Seto said mockingly.
“Hey, so what’s wrong?” as she walked towards him and noticed the feebleness of his eyes. He stood up and looked away, the lines of his face looked naked and were dressed with no emotion and a plainness. He lifted his head, calmly “I’m too bogged down here... Don't you want to travel?”
“Of course, but what are you trying to tell me. Why now Seto? . . . Seto I’m getting married soon and we agreed this would be the last time.”
“Yes I know, and it still is. . . I can’t believe you’re marrying that guy how long has it been, 6 months?”
“A year now . . . He asked and, I said yes.”
“I will miss this place.”
“Yea me too, but I’ll be moving in with George . . . I’m sorry I know you don’t like when I talk about him.”
“No its fine . . . from here on out we can be honest.”
“I’ve already told him, that whatever it was I doing it will be stopped by the time we get married.”
He leaned against the all brown waist high dresser, where the drinks were resting. His hand cuffed it for balance or to feel something solid, “But don’t you want more . . . aren’t you going to miss this? “If we must give it up Lise that I’m ok with, we had our fun while it lasted, but I want to know if you’re ready Lise.”
She walked over to
him. “I’m ready Seto, to leave it in the past.”
There was no reaction on his face, he scoffed. His eyes slowly made it to hers. “I want to wipe the slate clean, I haven't been entirely honest with you... I... I haven't been. . . I want you to sit down. . . How long have we been together now?”
“I've known you for 3 years so about 1.”
“Yes.”
He held her hands. She's felt him shiver and watched him drink some wine and swallow loudly. “What I do.”
She interrupted him, “You’re great . . . your more than.”
“No,” he said clearly.
“What I do for work . . . I’m telling you this as a friend, I’ve only ever told 1 other person in my life. I don’t have many close friends. . . I feel like I have to tell you like it’s something I must do, especially if we’re going to continue to have a relationship. I’m not trying to get back at you in anyway.”
His eyes now looked into hers, and notices a light he'd never seen before. Consequently he stood up and turned away.
“What Seto . . . What.”
“You see I... I’m not just a model.”
“Yes, I know,”
“More than that.”
She was now wearing a half smile like it was some new joke that hadn't revealed the punch line.
“What?” she asked as she walked over to him and grabbed his shoulder
“What?” she repeated again.
He stood there for a second before putting on his black jeans
“Answer me,” she demanded.
He began to look out the window and said, “What I do for work
Is I . . . I fuck . . . for the past 3 years of my life. Anybody or anything and I get paid well for it too. Sometimes they even leave me tips.” His voice was cold, as he walked causally across the room, went to his jacket and grabbed the envelope and dumped out the stack of hundreds.
Her face still in shock, she muttered, “So how long have you been doing this?”
“Since I was,” he trailed off. “It was when I first met you.”