Beautiful Scars

Athena looked from Ralph Kareall to Steven. He had just given her permission to teach a student about archeology. Not just any student, but this handsome man… “Wow,” she thought, “he is… really good. Reminiscent of… man, did I find that statue in Greece… four years ago? Like a statue!”
She quickly pulled out a small pad of paper and scribbled out a message to the producer.

Thanks so much, Mr. Moffat! This will be a great experience.
Ralphie has told me all that you’d like me to cover, so we can get crackin’. I can start as early as tomorrow if that’s ok with you and Mr. Cumberbatch (Wow. Some name!).

After Steven read the message, he handed the paper to Ben. “Yeah! Tomorrow’s great! And please, call me Steven. Now that that’s straightened away, I must go talk to some other coworkers. Please excuse me. Athena, feel free to contact me at anytime. Ralph knows how to get a hold of me. It was nice to see you!” he gave her and Ralph a smile and walked into the bar.
“What a nice man. Just like his father,” Ralphie softly said. It was easy to see that he missed his good friend and loved his son as if he were his own.
Athena nodded in agreement and watched the man leave. Her attention was quickly diverted, however, when the statue man (“Was it Cumberbatch? Cumberpatch? Ben. Benedict. Right.”) took a step towards her.
“It’s very nice to meet you Miss Congeth. I’ve always had an interest in archeology and history. I’m afraid you’ll be dealing with a student that won’t shut up due to having so many questions.” He smiled, making Athena feel comfortable.
Comfort. That wasn’t a commodity that was plentiful for her in these last months. Her life was uncomfortable. But now, she was perfectly content to stand on this balcony with the glittering London sky. She smiled and walked to lean on the balcony fence. What a sight it was! The Eye, the Palace… the solitude. She quickly said a prayer of thanksgiving for the feast her eyes were having. It was a good change.
Ralphie quickly deduced that the pair was not interested in talking to him, so he excused himself. “Athena, I’m going home. I’ll see you on site tomorrow afternoon, yes? Oh, and have another salsa for me, will you? Good night!” the old man waved and entered the bar. Athena silently waved back to wish him well.
“Salsa?” Ben asked. “You… you’re the salsa girl! You really had moves out there! It looks incredibly fun… have you always danced?” Athena went pink. She would have been so embarrassed to think that this guy was watching her! Not that she would have changed anything, but the feeling was all the same. She looked at his bright smile and wide eyes. He seemed genuinely impressed. She liked him. He made her feel confident and natural… and the way his skin ripped when he smiled was cute.
Athena grabbed her paper and pen. She dreaded the time consuming communication. She hoped her brain would let up soon so she could speak. It had been a month now, and nothing was different. Patience was never easy for her.

Thanks so much! Aw, it was nothing. I lived in Bolivia for a year on a dig. Needless to say, our nights were spent dancing the salsa and tango. There was quiet a bit of tequila too. I’ve never danced before that though. I would have loved to! Do you dance?

Ben read the note. “Bolivia! A beautiful place, yeah? And no. No, no, no.” he waved his hands and looked at the floor. “I dance only when tequila is involved. Only. It’s not a pretty sight. I did once at a wedding, and it went viral. Yikes.” he smiled at her as she laughed and jotted some words down.
Oh man! I’m sorry. We all have those moments though. Don’t worry.
“Yes, but rarely are they broadcast to millions via Youtube,” he smiled. She noticed a small flicker of sadness in his eyes. It was as if he was sad about being a celebrity.
You’re right. That is worse. Forgive me, I’ve been out of the country for three years, so I don’t know your work. I’ve been so busy this past month that I haven’t had time for TV either. Do you enjoy acting?
He smiled. “Oh definitely. I love it… it’s like putting on a mask. Pretending. I’ve been doing it since I was a child.”
That seems so young! How old are you now? (So I can understand the gravity of that statement.)
He laughed and answered her. “37. So, a very, very long time. And you? So I understand the gravity of your being the ‘tip top’ at Cambridge, of course.” She watched a slight pink cover his cheeks and long neck.
27. And I understand. She flashed him a big smile and rubbed her arms as he read, careful not to touch her healing scars. They were white now, but still painful to the touch. They hurt even more when they were cold, and it was certainly cold on the balcony. Ben looked up with a quizzical expression and noticed her chill. He quickly slid off his jacket and placed it gently on her shoulders, careful not to touch her scars. “Too cold?” he frowned. Athena watched sadness cloud his expression. It was clear that he wasn’t keen on saying goodbye – and neither was she.
“Let’s move into the bar area? Or how about a quieter place? There’s a smoke room upstairs!”
Thankful for the change in climate, Athena nodded enthusiastically. It wasn’t in her nature to leave with men after just having met them. It wasn’t her style. She was old fashioned and, quite honestly, enjoyed the chase. But Benedict was different. She knew she could trust him. At least, she felt like she could.
Benedict led her past the bar and dance floor to a lush gold elevator. She couldn’t help but notice the jealous looks thrown her direction by the other women in the bar. “Wow. He must really be a catch. Or incredibly famous. He must get a lot of attention,” she thought. A wave of disappointment crashed over her. It was clear that other women were all over him, due to his looks and name. She felt pity for him, and slight jealousy that he might return their attentions.
As the elevator went up a story, the pair stood in a slightly awkward silence. Athena could do nothing about it of course, but felt obligated to diffuse the tension. She had always been a goofy and spontaneous person, so it felt natural for her to do a funny hand dance to the faint music from the dance floor. She jived her hands to the beat and closed her eyes in delight. She was so content in this moment, not caring what the statue man thought. She didn’t really care what he thought about her, her scars, her condition, or her dancing. She could be real with him and with herself. She was finally beginning to break free.