Dance to Anything

She was dressed entirely in black when she showed up at my room that night. “Hello, Brendon,” she purred and locked the door behind me. “How are you this fine and pleasant evening?”

Mouth dry, I didn’t know how to answer her and instead gaping silently at her unearthly beauty.

“What?” she asked with a slight smirk and dragged a light finger down my chest. “Am I so beautiful you’re lost for words?”

All I could do was nod fervently and she laughed, bringing her dark red lips to mine in a soft kiss.

“I … you … ” I stuttered out. “God, I want you so badly.”

Opus nodded and began to shimmy out of her dress.

“Wait,” I said huskily and stepped towards her. “I … can I undress you?” I wasn’t sure why I asked that; it just seemed right.

“You can do whatever you like,” she murmured. “You’re paying for my time.”

“Thank you,” I whispered and kissed her on the cheek, reaching for her dress. I felt her slender boy freeze under my hands and when I looked into her large eyes, I saw pure fear. “What—what’s wrong?” I asked.

Opus bit her lip and stared at me in terror. “I … I’ve never …” she stammered and her voice sounded differently. Beautiful still, but differently. “I’ve never before,” she whispered and covered her face, as if ashamed.

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said slowly.

Her hands fell from her face and she looked at me with teary eyes. “I’m a virgin!” she screamed and immediately went back to crying into her hands.

Confused, I put my arms around, unsure of what else to do. “Shh, shh,” I murmured, rocking her back and forth in my arms. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this together.” It was as if we had known each forever, not at all like a virgin with a prostitute for the first time.

“I want,” she breathed into my ear. “I need to tell you something.”

“Anything.”

She stepped away from me. “Perhaps it would be better to show you,” she said in a musing voice and let her black dress fall away from her body.

Blinking in confusion, I stared at her, unable to comprehend board shoulders and flat chest. “What a-are you?” I asked in a shaky voice. “Who are you?”

Opus collapsed on my bed with a sob. “It was stupid of me to come here,” she hissed angrily and I could tell suddenly that her voice was lower, huskier, completely different. “I just thought … I don’t know why I thought that you could save me. Stupid!”

“I’d like to save you,” I whispered and sat down beside the trembling boy, reaching out to place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “But … who are you?”

The boy turned a tear-stained face, smudged with make-up, towards me and grasped at my hands. “My name is Ryan,” he said in a rush. “Or Opus. One of the two. I can’t tell anymore. I just can’t tell!” He was crying and shaking and scared. Young. Far too young for this life.

“Ryan,” I said slowly, trying out the name on my tongue. “How did you … how did you end up at La Cage de Toxiques?”

“Pete found me and Will—that’s Crystalline’s real name—living on the streets,” Ryan explained, holding on to me for dear life. “He was struck by our similar looks. Made us a proposition. It was better than being homeless and starving to death.”

“But now it really has become a cage to you, right?” I asked and he nodded.

“You have to save me!” he begged. “I’ll do anything. Please!” He began pressing desperate kisses to my lips, running his hands up my shirt. “I could give you what you want,” he whispered in my ear, seductive and sounding exactly like Opus.

Poor boy. It’s no wonder he can’t tell whether he’s Ryan or Opus. “Stop it,” I told him firmly. “I don’t want you to do this to yourself.”

He pulled away immediately and stared guiltily down at his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s just … you’re the first person who hasn’t treated me like a sex object. And I … I am asking so much of you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said softly and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead to let him know that I meant it. “I want to help you. Really I do. I just don’t know how.”

“Take me with you,” he breathed in my ear, voice raw as his fingernails dug into the skin of my arms. “When you leave this town, hide me away with you. Save me from La Cage.”

I pressed my lips to his soft hair, trying to calm him down, comfort myself. “I wasn’t … planning on leaving,” I tell him. “I just moved here, and I …”

Choking on a sob, he shivered and pressed his body to mine. “Then let me live here with you,” he pleaded. “I won’t be much of a bother. I’ll find a job—a real one—and pay for my share of the rent. Oh please, you have to save me!”

“Okay,” I said simply and suddenly his lips were on mine again. “No,” I said sternly, pushing him away. “I told you that you don’t have to do that to thank me.”

“It’s not ‘cuz I want to thank you,” he mumbled against my lips. “It’s because I want you.”

“You barely know me,” I protested feebly as his hands twisted in my hair.

“You’re my saving grace,” he whispered. “And I love you.”

I had never believed in love at first sight. This was the second time we had met. “I love you too,” I whispered back and let his hands roam over my body. “I promise you I will save you.”