17. The Rest of the World
17
THE REST OF THE WORLD
Gabriel
Admittedly, I was slightly reluctant to leave the ship this morning after the tango class because the last few days have been like a dream come true.
All vacations should be like this! Sun, sea, good food, great conversation, explosive sexual encounters ... Even the darn dance class has grown on me. I mean, it gives me a chance to be up close and personal with Magnus for four hours a day. To feel him, to flirt with him, to enjoy this intimacy — it’s pretty special.
Surprisingly, I'm good at tango. The more complex the steps are, the more I enjoy it. I also love letting Magnus take the lead. Not only because the turns and other dance steps are easier for me, but I love being able to switch off and let someone else take over. Who’d have thought I’d ever become a fan of ballroom dancing?
Susan had booked the perfect tour of the unexpectedly interesting Brazilian city, which I’d never heard of before our trip. However, my sister is a sightseeing junkie who won't rest until she’s witnessed even the one-star-rated sights firsthand. The day was quite exhausting.
We don’t even get one day off because tomorrow afternoon we’re docking in the next city. On the way back from Recife to the ship, Susan shared her plans for tomorrow, and a wave of tiredness hit me. I could really use a few days to relax and reboot right now. I’d be more than happy if the captain turned our big ship around and headed back across the Atlantic. Five relaxing days on board? You wouldn’t get a complaint from me.
Everyone is hot and sweaty when we come back on-board after our excursion ashore. We grab a bite to eat before the ship casts off again and then we head to the ballroom for the second time today.
By the time we enter the second hour of class, it’s obvious everyone’s running on empty tonight.. We’re not the only ones who got a little carried away with today's shore excursion, clearly.
As Magnus leads me into a promenade, we both stumble as my cell phone unexpectedly vibrates in my pants pocket. After the calm of the last few days, this otherwise familiar feeling is almost alien.
Magnus and I look at each other and burst into a fit of giggles. The Raven gives us a half-annoyed, half-amused look.
I look at Magnus and shrug. I want to continue dancing, so I ignore the vibrations until they stop. But no sooner does the cell go still then it starts vibrating again. Magnus frowns.
"Shouldn’t you get that?"
Good question.
"I'm on vacation," I decide.
But whoever is calling is relentless. When it’s still vibrating after a full minute, we stop in the middle of the dance floor.
"Maybe you should at least see who's this desperate to reach you," Magnus says.
I snatch my cell out of my pocket, annoyed with myself for not leaving it in our cabin. Lately, I've been leaving it there during dance class, but today I had it with me because I wanted to take pictures on our shore excursion.
As I look down at the screen, I can see the call is from my agent but it’s being routed to my voicemail. I frown. What does Elisabeth want now? She knows I'm on vacation. So, I look at the call history, to discover two missed calls from her and one from my coach. What's going on? Then a message pops up — Daniel has sent me a link.
While I’ve been scanning my phone, Magnus has pulled me aside so that we don't block the other dancers. Then Susan and Klaus come over. An ominous feeling is brewing in my stomach, and with trembling fingers, I open the link.
I'm taken to one of those unspeakable gossip websites — and I see me. And Magnus. Magnus and me lying in our swim shorts by the pool, and another of us dancing the tango together.
Okay, that's all still easy to explain away, I tell myself.
But then I spot the next photo and it hits me like a punch to the gut. It’s a picture from this afternoon. Magnus and I are standing in front of the last surviving anchor mast for transatlantic Zeppelin airship traffic … and we’re kissing.
Stunned, I stare at the pictures. Then the phone vibrates again and the photos disappear. Elisabeth's name lights up on the screen in their place.
Magnus
All color has drained from Gabriel's face. The hand holding his phone is trembling. I fully sympathize with him. I feel my privacy has been violated too. Who would even think of putting pictures of us on the Internet? Without asking us? And sending them to the most notorious gossip site in all of Terengia …?
Then my eyes catch the headline of the article: "Gabriel Verieux Gay!"
Shit! How cruel.
Ever since Gabriel’s phone call with Daniel Miller on the balcony that evening, we haven't talked through anything important. We were having fun, enjoying our time together, flirting, having sex. Maybe I should have encouraged him to talk more about his feelings. But honestly, was it my place to do that? We never talked about what we are to each other or what would happen after this vacation ends.
The article on Gabriel's cell phone is replaced by another incoming call.
"I ... I guess I'd better answer it," he says shakily before pressing Accept and saying, "Hold on a minute, Elisabeth." Then he jogs out of the room.
I continue to stand there like a spare prick at a wedding, staring after Gabriel and feeling totally lost. Then a gentle hand rubs my shoulder, and I look up in surprise. I’d forgotten where I was and who I was with for a moment.
Susan's look is understanding, "Give him a little space."
Is she right or could Gabriel do with some moral support? I somehow feel partly responsible — after all, this is a two-way thing. So should I go to him? Or is this something he needs to do on his own? Or with the mysterious Elisabeth?
The last question somehow makes it out of my mouth. With a flash of jealousy, I ask, "Who’s Elisabeth?"
She must be pretty special if Gabriel’s happy to talk to her but not to me. Susan shakes her head in amusement. My feelings are clearly plastered all over my face.
"Elisabeth is his agent. His happily married agent," she explains.
I raise my hands defensively.
"She's fantastic. Don't worry about it. She'll take care of the whole mess."
Mess! Susan uses the word so lightly, but it cuts me deep. What have I gotten Gabriel into? Before we can say anything more, however, De Vale appears, his gaze wandering questioningly back and forth between us.
"Where is"—he falters and flaps his hand—"your friend?"
"He had to take a call," Susan answers calmly. Much calmer than I’d have been able to.
"Bueno." He waves to his daughter, who then joins us. "You can dance with Letizia until he comes back."
The problem apparently solved, De Vale turns and paces over to the next couple to correct their posture. I stand there puzzled. Am I really supposed to dance with our teacher? And what about Gabriel? But then the beautiful Letizia takes my hand and takes up the correct stance and I automatically I do the same. It feels wrong, though.
My new dance partner is significantly smaller than me. Her body seems almost too fragile in my arms. She smells of flowers and her high heels clatter on the parquet floor. I realize the strangeness comes from never dancing tango with a woman before. In fact, I have never danced tango with anyone other than Gabriel. And honestly, I don't really want to.
Gabriel
My world blurs as I rush from the ballroom, and my field of vision dims at the edges, as if I were running through a tunnel.
"Gabriel?" Elisabeth's voice pierces through the mental haze.
"Give me a minute!" I growl.
There would be silence if it were not for the roaring in my ears. My pulse races and I feel so edgy that if jumping off the ship were the remedy, I’d do it.
As I pull the cabin door shut behind me, I ask breathlessly, "How bad is it?"
Elisabeth's voice sounds soft as she asks an unexpected question of her own. "Do you want to tell me what these photos are about first?"
She's right. I’d forgotten for a moment that Elisabeth is not only my agent, but a lifelong friend. Her simple question grounds me, making me feel I can breathe again. I suck oxygen into my lungs and step out onto our balcony, the balcony where so much has happened.
Elisabeth waits patiently while I settle down on one of the recliners where Magnus and I have spent so many wonderful hours together. But despite feeling calmer, I still don't know what to say.
My cell phone beeps, and I look at the screen to find that my coach is trying to reach me again. There’s also a missed call from my parents and several messages from Daniel and other friends.
"I don't know what to say," I eventually mumble as I press the phone back to my ear.
"Let's start at the beginning. Who is the guy in the pictures?"
"Magnus."
"Who’s Magnus?"
I have to hand it to Elisabeth. She doesn't seem annoyed that she that has to prompt me to answer the basic question in a more detailed way. I'm so glad she’s on my side! I take another deep breath and tell her everything. About how the “delightful creature” Susan promised me turned out to be a guy. How we’ve spent hours and hours together in the ballroom over the last ten days. How there was a more or less instant attraction. And how it deepened into more.
After I’ve finished speaking, there’s a comfortable silence before Elisabeth eventually says, and I can hear the smile in her voice as she says it, "You sound happy."
Do I? I wonder.
But Elisabeth doesn't give me time to think.
She sighs and continues. "The problem is, these photos have taken away any choice you had. They tell a pretty obvious story that you’ll need to address."
Clearly friend mode is over. Now I have my agent on the line. I feel like the giant anchor of the cruise ship is suddenly pulling me down.
"W... what do you mean?" I stammer.
"You won't be able to avoid a public statement." Elisabeth’s verdict is like a judge banging their gavel.
"What am I supposed to say?" I ask in despair. I don't even know who I am anymore. I’ve only ever been attracted to women, then suddenly there's Magnus … How do you explain that? Worse, what is Magnus to me exactly? A friend? Friends with benefits? My lover? My partner? And what does that say about me?
I can't answer any of these questions. Just thinking about them makes me feel sick.
My restlessness floods back. I jump up and lean against the railing. The salty air whips at my face and the vastness of the sea spreads out before me. I breathe deeply again and the nausea recedes.
"Just tell it like it is," Elisabeth states, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Before I can reply, I hear papers rustling.
"You'll be docking in Salvador de Bahia tomorrow afternoon. I'll book you a plane ticket from there to Los Angeles. My husband and I are with Daniel and Nico right now. We can discuss everything else then. In the meantime, I'll put out a short press release. That should stall the vultures."
I feel trapped. I want to say no but I can’t.
I don't want to leave! I don't want this trip I've been looking forward to so much to end early. And I don't want to leave Magnus.