Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
A fter the events of Friday night, Mario woke up on Saturday morning feeling both better and worse.
Physically, he was fine. He’d downed the entire sports drink Ilya had given him before falling asleep, and by the time he woke up, he was no longer dizzy. In fact, he felt as good as he usually did, and he wondered if that was normal. He wasn’t used to any kind of physical weakness or illness beyond fatigue and soreness from pushing his body to its limits while exercising or performing. He wasn’t sure how he ought to feel, since it had never occurred to him that anything, even the evening sun, could affect him in such a way.
Mentally, he felt both chagrin and embarrassment. For Ilya to see him in such a state was beyond mortifying, and he wondered if Ilya’s solicitousness in the aftermath had been because he really wanted to help, or if he didn’t want to risk Mario being unable to perform. After all, hadn’t he said helping Mario was just his job? It wasn’t personal.
It couldn’t be for any other reason. No matter how much Mario wished it was.
Obedient to Ilya’s instructions, he sent a text to let Ilya know he was awake and felt well. Ilya responded almost immediately despite the early hour, telling him to rest and recover, and asking if he needed anything. Mario wondered how Ilya would respond if he said, “you.”
He also knew his dizziness had probably saved him from making a fool of himself the previous night, although he didn’t know if it was the heat exhaustion, the alcohol, or both that had made him feel a surge of pure happiness when he’d seen Ilya. Whatever it had been, his inhibitions had disappeared, and he had fully intended to rush to Ilya and throw his arms around him, which could have had horrifying consequences. Not only would a large number of his coworkers have learned he had the hots for his mentor/coach, but if Ilya had rebuffed him, he would have died on the spot. He’d much rather look like an idiot for falling on his face than for embarrassing Ilya and being publicly rejected.
Besides, he’d been warned to go slow to get what he desired. He needed to remember that.
Ilya also texted him on Sunday to check in, and Mario said he was fine, and he’d be at work the next day. He was bored out of his mind with “resting,” so he was more than ready to go back on Monday morning, especially since it meant he’d get to see Ilya.
The only saving grace of the entire weekend was Daphne adding him to the group chat for those who had been in the Carnival. There were a dozen or so names, and those who were active all expressed excitement at him joining their group. He remembered a couple of them, roustabouts who had learned enough in the Carnival to get good jobs in Circo. It was nice to talk about the Carnival with people who knew how special it really was.
When he arrived at Circo on Monday, Patrick greeted him as soon as he stepped into the locker room. “Hey, did you hear the news?”
Mario frowned. “What news?”
“One of the clowns, Gina Martin, hasn’t been seen since the party,” he said somberly. “The police found her car in the Valley of Fire State Park, but there’s no sign of her anywhere. Her roommates said she never came home that night, and she hasn’t called.”
Mario had met Gina briefly at the party, and he remembered she had Traveled, though he couldn’t remember if she’d been in Daphne’s group chat. Still, it was disturbing to hear that anyone he’d known, however fleetingly, might be in trouble. “Does anyone have any idea what could have happened to her?”
Patrick shook his head. “No one knows yet. If she was hiking alone up there, she could be lost or injured. She could have gotten a ride from someone if her car wouldn’t start, but she’s not answering her phone either. She never mentioned going out there. Someone would have warned her it wasn’t a good idea to go alone if she had. They apparently have CCTV of her from outside Chey’s house, and it shows her leaving by herself, but that’s the last time she was seen. I hope they find her. She hasn’t been here long, but people really like her.”
They were both silent for a moment. Then Patrick shook himself, as though trying to rid himself of the pall of doubt. Mario had learned from being with the Carnival that performers were a superstitious lot who didn’t like to dwell on bad things, lest the darkness somehow creep over them as well. Patrick, it seemed, was no different. “Anyway, how are you doing? Feel better?”
Mario shook his head. Patrick had also texted him a few times over the weekend, asking how he was and admonishing him to rest. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m just glad my family wasn’t here to see it. They’d tease me for the rest of my life.”
Patrick laughed, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You’ll probably get teased for a while anyway, but don’t worry about it. If anything, it made you more like the rest of us. People were so in awe after your audition and seeing how you handle the straps, there were rumors you’ve got super powers or something. Now you’re just one of the gang.”
Mario snorted. If Patrick only knew. “Or something. Glad my humiliation makes me more acceptable to you mere humans.”
Patrick threw a shoe at him, which Mario caught and tossed back. “I’ll show you ‘mere human’,” Patrick grumbled. Then he grew more serious. “Really, you don’t have to worry about it. I think more people are talking about Ilya showing up at a party. It’s the first time since his husband died that he’s mingled with the rest of us outside of work.”
Husband ? Mario stared at Patrick, not sure he’d heard correctly. Then the pieces fell into place. He’d wondered why losing his performing partner had caused Ilya to give up a career he’d been so good at, but now it all made sense. Ilya hadn’t simply lost a straps partner. He’d lost his spouse and his lover. His heart. No wonder Ilya had stopped performing; he no longer had a reason to fly.
“They were married,” he said. “Ilya and Derek.”
Patrick looked at him closely. “Of course. Wait, you didn’t know?”
“No one said anything about it.” Mario once again felt like an idiot. “I saw them together years ago, but it never occurred to me they were more than just performing partners.”
“I mean, they weren’t exactly putting it out there to the public,” Patrick said. “Everyone on the inside knew, but Circo never played it up, and they were billed as ‘Ilya Mirov and Derek Carter.’ I’m not sure Derek’s obituary even mentioned their relationship. They probably kept it quiet to avoid haters boycotting the show and raising a public stink, since I think they got married as soon as it was legal. As if it was anyone else’s business.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I thought you knew that’s why he quit performing.”
So not only did Ilya not have any feelings for him beyond professional ones, he was nursing a broken heart. Mario waved one hand, not wanting Patrick to read anything into his turmoil other than confusion. “I just never put it together. Poor Ilya. I can see why he no longer flies.”
“Yeah, everyone understood. Especially management, since they let him start choreographing and coaching.” Patrick shook his head. “He’s great at it, too. Very patient. But he was like the best there was. I can’t imagine how hard it was to walk away from that. Hey, you better hurry or you’ll be late,” Patrick said as he glanced at the clock on the wall. Then he pointed to Mario’s necklace. “Don’t forget to take that off, or Ilya will be sure to have something to say about it. I doubt that’s the last thing you want after the weekend you had.”
Mario rushed to change into practice gear. He tucked the necklace away in the waistband pocket of his leggings, then grabbed his water bottle before following Patrick out to the straps area.
Ilya was waiting for them, and Mario felt an odd ache in his chest. “Better today, Mario?” he asked, looking Mario over with a keen eye.
“Yes, thanks,” Mario lifted his chin, meeting Ilya’s hazel eyes and giving him a searching gaze in return. Mario knew how short of a time two years was; two years for him could pass almost without notice. It was a blink of an eye in the scheme of the multiverse. Of course, he was looking at it from the perspective of someone who had been around for far longer than Ilya, but it still didn’t seem like nearly enough time to get over the death of the man you loved.
Which meant that Mario had been yearning for something he could never have.
The thought weighed on him. While he hadn’t exactly left the Carnival to pursue Ilya, he had to admit that it had been a part of the reason. A large part , his inner voice whispered annoyingly. But where did that leave him now?
Ilya frowned, as though he could sense Mario’s inner conflict. But fortunately, he asked no more questions and ran him and Patrick through their warm-ups instead. For the first time, however, Mario couldn’t bring any genuine enthusiasm to the movements. Even when Ilya put them on the straps and had Mario lift Patrick, practicing one and two-handed holds to get Patrick used to the sensation of depending on Mario rather than the strap, he went through the motions like an automaton. He wasn’t inattentive, and he didn’t do anything that risked Patrick’s safety, but for the first time Mario could remember, he didn’t care about flying.
When they broke for lunch, Ilya pulled Mario aside.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you still feel sick? Or are you upset about the party? Don’t tell me you’re fine, because I can tell something isn’t right.”
Mario actually had been about to say he was fine, but he shut his mouth instead. He couldn’t hide his lack of enthusiasm from Ilya, but he couldn’t tell Ilya what was wrong, either.
“I’m not sick, and I’m not upset about that, I promise,” he said at last, again meeting Ilya’s eyes. “I learned something that’s made some decisions I’ve made recently seem kind of futile. It’s hard, but it’s my own fault.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just found out this morning, and it’s hit me harder than I realized. I’ll be better, I promise.”
“If you need to talk about it, I’ll listen,” Ilya said. “You don’t have to bear your burdens alone, Mario.”
Alarmed, Mario shook his head. Ilya was the last person he wanted to talk about his feelings with! It wasn’t Ilya’s cross to bear; it was his, and besides, what could Mario say? “I grew up and left the Carnival for you, because I’ve wanted you for years. But it turns out that you were already taken when we met, and you lost him, and your heart was so shattered you gave up flying”? It would be a great way to lose Ilya even as a friend, and he didn’t want that.
Mario pasted a smile on his face. “I know the show has to go on, no matter what. I’ve lived that concept my entire life, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
“If you think I’m buying that, you must have a low opinion of my intelligence.” Ilya gazed at him for several long moments, but then finally, he sighed. “But I can’t force you to tell me. As long as you are doing your job, I suppose I’ll have to let it go. But if you can’t keep your head in the game, Mario, I will keep your ass on the ground. It would hurt the show, and that will hurt more people than just you. So you need to figure this out and deal with it. You’re the most talented aerialist I have ever seen, but I am not putting you in this show if you’re a risk to Patrick and yourself. Do you understand?”
The words cut Mario, but there was a lot Ilya didn’t know about him and even more that Mario had no desire to explain. Ilya had to think of the show and of the good of the performers, and Mario acknowledged his own responsibilities as well.
“Understood,” he said firmly. “I can handle it, I promise.” He drew himself up straighter, letting his pride give him strength. “You are a professional, and I respect that. I ask you to respect my professionalism in return. I’ve not missed a show since I was twelve years old, and I will not let you down.”
Ilya seemed to consider that. Then he nodded. “Very well. Now go get some lunch and be back here ready to work.”
“Yes, sir,” Mario replied, before hurrying to do as he’d been instructed. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew better than to ignore the needs of his body. He also had the feeling Ilya would watch him like a hawk, and so he couldn’t afford to slip up and lose Ilya’s confidence in him.
At least not until he decided if he could stay around Ilya without feeling that he’d made the worst mistake of his life.