Lacrimo Crystallinus

“Can you repeat that again?” I ask, focusing on the way her lips move this time. She smiles.

“Yes. C’est une boisson incroyable. Repeat it back to me.” I pucker my lips a few times to get the sound right before actually saying the entire phrase. She waits patiently, her slim fingers brushing a stray lock of her brown hair behind her ear where a pencil is wedged.

“C’est une boisson incroyable…. did I get it this time?”

“You almost sound like a French speaker! Now, say that and do what we scripted. Take three… you ready?” I nod. “Okay, you’re on in three… two… go!”

I repeat the line, tipping the wine glass as she had instructed, swirling the dark fluid in the crystal glass. I finish the take by sipping from it in a stereotypically-seductive manner, though it ends poorly for me—it pours all down my exposed chest and onto the white sheets, plastering the stained fabric to my… ah… hips. Katherine immediately stops filming and rushes to me with a white towel to clean up the mess.

“That was great. We don’t even need to do another one, that one was good enough. We can cut out the last few seconds and we’re good to go,” she says mopping up the wine that somehow managed to get on my chest. I shift awkwardly away from her, trying to take the towel from her, but she does not relinquish it. “I can get it. I don’t need your hands to soak up the towel even more.” Heedless of my displeased face, she continues to run the warm towel down my stomach and toward the primary mess. Her hands do not even tremble as she nears my pelvis and, seeing that she will, doubtless, continue on, I clutch the towel in one hand.

“I will do the rest myself, Katherine,” I say, staring forebodingly up into her hazel eyes. She does not move for a time, her gaze shifting about my face. A long moment passes and her small finger touches mine. “That is quite enough.” With the free hand, which is also stained with wine, I remove hers from the towel and slide away from the prop bed.

“What is the matter?” she asks as I wipe maroon droplets off my thighs. I can feel the brand of her eyes upon me as I would feel the eyes of Carrie Ann, though this is worse. When I have finished removing loose moisture from my person, I curl the towel around my fist. It is hardly even damp with wine—there was only one glass.

“Gackt!” she calls as I cross the room in my wine-drenched boxers. I turn to look upon her, the towel wadded up in my hand. Her eyes look hurt. “Why?”

I can hardly bear to look at her, much less remember her touch. Turning away and toward the dressing room, I respond in English, “The grass is not always greener, Katherine.”

**

When I finally arrive at home, I sprawl out on my bed, comforted by candlelight the soft sound of water flowing from a fountain on the other end of the room. The sheet smells faintly of my cologne and laundry detergent, but is cold on my skin. Though sleep is extremely inviting after the long week, I sit up and check my cell phone, noting that it is too late in the day to call Bao. The thought is disappointing, almost dramatically so.

She had not tried to call me since the week before, and I am a little worried, but I try to shove away that thought. Is she becoming more mature or am I becoming more immature? I smile at the notion. Perhaps it isn’t all bad… to be young again in some way. It is a freedom I was robbed of before it even had the chance to exist. Oh, Bao…

I flip open the phone and collapse on the bed, laying face up and staring at the ceiling for a time. The house is empty; I can feel it. Save the cell phone, the only light is from the rows of white candles around the room. In some small way, perhaps, I have redeemed myself. All is peaceful.

Carrie Ann, wherever you are, I hope you are happy. I know I am.

Closing my eyes, I press the “call” button on the phone and hold it up to my ear. Skipping my own voice, I replay the messages left by Bao. Her sweet voice sends pangs of longing through my chest and I idly sweep my hand across the place in bed beside me. Maybe one day…

I fall asleep to her missing me.