"Yeah. I don't really believe in that stuff." She says dismissively as she catches Alex's eye. She knew he would have a great name. They always do. She wonders if people grow into the names they are given, or if their name makes them the person they are?
"What DO you believe in?" The Eastern European man barks.
"I ask myself the same question every day." She says with a sarcastic smile.
Alex chuckles like he's seen his friend's act before, only usually women entertain him for a little while. People always want to hear about their future, so the topic of astrology is good for at least a little hook. Usually.
She turns on her heel and walks over to the bar to grab a red plastic drink. That's what they are drinking. Probably to prevent spilling, but more importantly debauchery. Because debauchery is only ever induced by alcohol. 'Yeah right.' She chuckles to herself.
Hardened, candied liquid in plastic glasses. Fake Vodka Cranberry. Fake Rum and Coke. And Fake Gin and Tonic. His question resonates in her brain. "What DO you believe in?" It angers her and she, once again does her best to focus on the music. She feels her envy bubble up inside every time the bass drops and Pleather Girl's wispy body is tossed into the air.
Why is she envious of her? Is she afraid of her own desires? Does she want to be the center of attention? Maybe it's that Pleather Girl seems so free to be who she is. She isn't apologizing to anyone for her behavior, and as a result, she's found her place. It's as if the perfect spot opened up for her the minute she pulled into the lot.
Alex watches her head sway from side to side. Her eyes are closed. He can feel her across the room. She opens her eyes and he's standing next to her. The lights of the disco ball sparkle across his face.
"You like to dance?" He asks.
"Yeah, I can't really help it. It just happens when I hear music... You don't?"
"Nah, I just try to stay in the background of these things."
"So you've done this before?" She asks.
"Yeah, you know... From time to time."
"Is that how you know that guy?" She acknowledges the Eastern European man.
"Yeah, he's always doin that... You can't take him too seriously."
"I wasn't!" She defends herself.
Startled at her own defensiveness, she looks away and pretends she's fine. But, on the inside, she decides she hates everyone here. Anger pumps through her veins and she doesn't know why. She feels she's reached a dead end. There is no way out. She is surrounded by a million bitter enemies, who have done nothing to make her feel this way, but yet, it's still how she feels.
What comes after this? She wonders. Where am I? How do I get to where I want to go? Where do I even want to go? What DO I believe in? Nearly on the verge of an existential breakdown, she looks up.
Alex is dancing. Shifting his weight back and forth. He's not dancing to seduce her, but to connect with her. To bring her out of herself. She is unsure of how she knows it, but she does. She smiles. He smiles. They start to laugh.
"I thought you hated dancing!" The music shuts off and she is left screaming in the silence.
They look at each other and laugh. All of a sudden it's as if they are two children. Their guards instantaneously melt away, and for a second they are no longer caged birds, but free people, awakened into the moment.
The man on the megaphone announces that it's lunch time. Alex guides her to a white tent full of food. Sugar and Grease galore. She is the only woman in the tent. Everybody knows if you want to be famous, the first thing you have to stop is eating. She feels like a rebel as she enters the tent. He grazes over the tables, looking for just what he wants. She watches him, completely in awe of his presence and individuality, so much so that it fills her and she no longer has an aching hunger. What is it that makes him so different from all the rest? He takes only candy. Red vines. A whole handful.
"You like candy?" She asks.
"Yeah, I love it. It's one of the perks of this job."
She laughs. She loves candy too. But she never allows herself to eat it anymore. Although smoking is a worse habit. She watches him yank the licorice out of the side of his mouth against his beautiful white teeth. She imagines him as a child and decides they would have been friends. Two outsiders who would have entered into many a secret adventure together. Their strength and life experience completely unbeknownst to those in their immediate surroundings.
"So is this your job... Being an extra?" She shyly asks, trying not to put him on the spot, but desperate to know the secrets this man holds.
He shoots her a look, aware that she wants to peel a layer, but is she worthy?
"Nah... I just do this for fun."
"Fun???"
He laughs. "Yeah, I like watchin all the people..."
She wants to know what he does. She can tell he's fulfilled. But she can't bring herself to make him explain himself. Sometimes that takes away from all the beauty of what is.
"I love people too," she says.
He continues"... Each one of is different, you know? Sometimes, we catch each other's eye and change forever. Even if we just meet for a second."
She thinks about all of the characters she has met throughout the day and how they have impacted her.
"You want to know what I do, don't you?" He teases.
She laughs.
"I'm an embalmer."
Completely unsure of how to respond, she stands there looking him straight in the eye. An embalmer? Someone who takes out the insides of people when they die and then styles them for their open casket funeral??? She is stunned at how this piece of knowledge should probably disturb her, but somehow it only enhances his beauty.
How interesting that someone who deals with death for a living, could be the one person to bring her back to life. She feels his vulnerability and his truth and she wishes she could explain to him how it is his presence alone that has changed her forever. And it is in that moment, she realizes what it is that she believes in. Him.
"It's a wrap!" The man on the megaphone announces. And in the most intimate of moments, a highway of hustle and bustle of tired and cranky background birds appears in between them, as boas and headdresses are peeled off, tossed aside, and feathers float upwards. She watches as these creatures walk off of the lot, slowly assuming human form again. And as their silhouettes are projected on the buildings in the distance, he is gone.
"Hey girl, you're a really good dancer!" Her inescapable compadre, Pleather Girl, cheers behind her.
"What?" She distractedly turns around, trying to find him amongst the crowd. He is gone, for this lifetime at least.
"I said you're a really good dancer. I saw you jammin out in there."
"Haha. You did?" She questions. "I was watching you too... And thinking about how I wish I could be as free as you are."
"Aww girl you are too sweet. You got another cigarette?"
She smiles at Pleather Girl and hands her the pack. But, she keeps her lighter.
"Only if I can borrow that Pleather suit sometime."
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