Postcard Burnt in Flames

I dashed to my room and as soon as I closed the door behind me, I let out the deep sigh I was holding in. When I had almost stumbled and Ville had caught me, the hair on my arm had stood up and I found it hard to concentrate. I was positive it was just physical attraction and I was never one NOT to take advantage of that. He had kissed me, gently, but it was enough to feed my bottomless lust appetite. I had observed J watching him, watching us, watching herself all that evening. She was usually direct about what she wanted or what she had an interest in. She never voiced anything on Ville and from what I could gather, she was just in awe of meeting someone she admired.

“What should I wear?” I mused aloud as I flung open the doors to the closet.
I didn’t want to wear anything too provocative nor too demure. I needed to do laundry still from Prague and the shirt I wanted to wear laid in the pile of unwashed clothes. My fingers flipped through the coat hangers before I settled on a tight blue turtleneck and black Levi’s. I knew how to dress myself, unlike my pajama-lobby wearing cousin. The blue in the shirt brought out my blue eyes and I finished the look with gold hoop earrings and my black ankle boots. I put on some foundation and the cult classic MAC red lipstick.

“Yes. This is femme fatale.”

Ville was still sitting at the breakfast table when I went downstairs. When he caught me approaching him, his mouth was open a bit. “This will be easy,” I thought.

“You look- beautiful,” he said and stood up.
“So, what is on the agenda?” I asked him.
“I haven’t given it much thought, but do you like shopping?” he asked back.
I hated questions with questions.
“I know how I might seem, but I actually find shopping quite boring,” I said to his surprise.
He mulled over some ideas in his head and then smiled.
“Do you find art boring?” he asked.
“Not as much, but then again I haven’t been to many art galleries.”
“It’s decided then,” he stated and grabbed his coat to lead us out through the lobby.

When we stepped outside, he adjusted his cap to go over his eyes a bit more and glanced in both directions before heading to the nearest metro stop.
“Are you embarrassed to be seen or embarrassed to be seen with me?” I teased.
“Neither. But today I don’t feel much for autographs or pictures,” he said with a smile.

We departed at Erottaja metro and headed to Helsinki Contemporary Art Museum. I noticed a few curious glances in our direction.
“I don’t think you’ve done so well on hiding yourself from your onlookers,” I chuckled as a trio of girls made their way in our direction.
“Let’s hurry then,” he said as he dashed for the entrance, leaving me behind.
“Ville!” I hollered and chased after him. At the confirmation that it was Ville Valo, the girls quickened their pace.
Once we were inside, Ville bought tickets and kept looking over his shoulder. The girls hadn’t followed us in.
“Thank goodness,” he breathed out.
“Is it really so bad, all of the attention?”
“No, but it can be overwhelming at times. Especially when you’ve gotten out of a relationship and there is a lot of speculation about who I am with,” he explained as we entered the first room.

“Do they really care so much anymore? No offense, I think I learned your band broke up a year ago.”

“In Finland, my home, they will always care. There is also the speculation about what I am doing with my career now.”

He seemed to not want to talk about it about so I dropped the conversation and started looking at the paintings. I found it all dreadfully boring. Art never spoke to me, but Ville was engaged with each painting. I tried to take attention to the meaning or colors, but my mind was stuck.

“Jac would probably appreciate this more,” I honestly said without giving much thought to it.
“Really?” Ville asked looking at the next painting.
Shit, not the person I wanted to bring up.
“Yeah, she’s really big on art lately. The stories I could tell you,” I mused thinking I could turn it in my favor. I didn’t want to throw her under the bus, but I could play on her overhyped emotions. I even found it hilarious. There was a bench nearby and I used it as an excuse to continue the tale, without having to look at another painting.

“Stories?” Ville said, landing on the s with a suspicion.
“Oh, yes. You’ll never take her to an art gallery,” I said with a laugh.
“Why is that?” he asked, taking a seat beside me.
“Where do I start?” I mused. Oh, I had plenty of stories and not just about art galleries.
Ville waited for me to continue speaking.
“She loves literature so I suppose that got her into art. She’s also really big into history. So anyways, she has a fondness for Johannes Vermeer paintings. Last summer she went to Edinburgh and London. I’m not sure what was more funny, the photos of her crying when she found the Vermeer paintings or the fact that she almost died when she found the Tudor collection in London’s National Gallery.” I pulled out my phone with a devious look and showed Ville the messages she had sent from the galleries where she poked fun at herself. I started laughing when I found the video of her genuine reaction to coming across Hans Holbien paintings and monarch portraits. She had absolutely been beside herself.

“Wait, what’s that?” Ville asked and I could see he was holding in a laugh.
“OH. That is when she climbed Arthur’s Seat, a tall mountain or hill just outside of Edinburgh. Jac was in the video making commentary on her lack of physical fitness and following a plaid skirted man as motivation.
“If he can do it, I can do it,” she said in the video as the camera turned around to show a man in traditional Scottish attire. At this point, Ville was laughing hysterically.
“She is hilarious. I find it rather touching that she is so overcome with emotions about the art, even if it is a bit funny,” he admitted. He laughed some more and I found myself laughing too.

“So, are you two close?” he asked.
“Of course. I’m younger but I often play the older and bitchier cousin,” I explained as Ville arched his brows. “I go after what I want and put myself out there. J is a bit more reserved. She has a lot of passion but so many walls,” I continued, “I suppose my blunt manner makes me come off as a bitch and I love her, but if we vie for something, I make my intentions known.” I looked at Ville who seemed to understand the double meaning.
“Do you make your intentions known to her or just to the object of your focus?” he asked and I knew he understood between the words.
“The latter, which is probably not always the correct behavior but I can’t apologize for who I am,” I stated with a smile. He seemed to weigh my words when his phone rang. He excused himself and I took the opportunity to check in with Jac.

-What are you up to?
-I just finished a workout and lunch. You?
-Just catching an art gallery. You worked out? Congratulations!
-I’m not out of shape, I just prefer running and free weights to strict gym classes. Since when do you visit art galleries…..are there any Vermeers??
I laughed and Ville looked over. He wrapped up his phone call and rejoined me on the bench.

“J asked if there were any Vermeer paintings here,” I explained to him as I put my phone away.
“Sadly we don’t. Though I would love to be a fly on a wall to see her reaction. Speaking of, does she and you want to join us later for a drink?” he asked staring directly into my eyes.
“Who is us?” I inquired.
“I am getting dinner with my old bandmates and some of us will go to a bar afterwards. Might be a good opportunity for you to meet them,” he said.
Meet them? Was he that impressed with me?
“Is that a good idea?” I asked, not sure how serious he was thinking of me. I felt flustered.
“You would know, you’re the fan. I suppose your cousin will be unaffected by a band she’s not aware of,” he laughed.
Shit. He was on a different thought wavelength than I had been on. I recalled I was supposed to be the fan and cursed my lies. Though, if J came the conversation might not be so much on their music and she could always fill me in, in the meantime.
“Sure, we’d love to join on one condition,” I said holding up my finger.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You can not mention we did this today, I didn’t tell her I was meeting you,” I confessed.
Ville looked surprised.
“Does it matter?” he asked.
I couldn’t tell him I lied to spare her feelings because then he might think she liked him nor could I state she was the fan. My lies were becoming a web.
“Well, it’s just-“ I started to think of how to explain.
“It’s okay, I will cover for you. I will have to pretend I never saw the Arthur’s seat video though. I hope I can get her to tell more stories tonight. She is something else,” he said the last part quickly and I could see a smile teasing his lips. My stomach felt uneasy.
He wasn’t interested in her, was he?