Page 23 of Semblance

“Why?” I asked.

“I like your music,” he said. “Especially the song you played, Breathless. As corny as this sounds, it stirred some emotions in me that I thought were long dead. It was nice.”

I felt my heart skip a beat, but not because I was swooning over his deep voice, handsome face, or muscular build—okay maybe I was swooning a little. The thing that made me flutter high in the clouds was the fact that my music was touching people in profound ways.

Sometimes, being a new independent artist was a lonely job, one filled with many self-doubts. Every little compliment I received was an additional piece of metal added to my criticism-proof armor; toughening up my defenses to the insensitive assholes I called music trolls.

So to hear that my song had an effect on Shadow warmed my entire body, like a fire burning deep within my heart.

“Well, I’m really glad you liked my song,” I said.

“I still don’t want to marry you though,” he quickly added.

Yup, this guy sure had a way with women. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t want to get married either, especially to the jackass that Shadow was turning out to be.

“No need to let me down gently,” I said. “I have no intentions to get hitched either.”

“Good,” he said. “We’re in agreement then.”

There was a long awkward pause as we glanced at each other briefly. I wondered what he was thinking.

“Why don’t you want to get married?” I asked. “If that’s what supposed to be in your cards.”

“It’s not one of my priorities,” he said. “And with the way things are looking, I doubt I’ll ever have the time for a relationship in my life.”

That was a bold statement to make—an entire lifetime without love. I admit, falling hopelessly in love and being whisked away in a horse-drawn carriage wasn’t on my list of priorities either, but eventually someday, when all the stars aligned, I had the desire to meet a perfect guy, experience the entire “on cloud nine” dating thing, and have a meaningful relationship where love meant walking around in yoga pants and leaving the washroom door open while I pissed.

I believed most people felt the same way. After all, who wanted to be alone in this world? This made me curious about Shadow.

“You’re not an amoeba are you?”

“What?” he asked me, surprised.

“Like an amoeba, you know, asexual? No desires for women, or men, while floating around in life, hanging low and lazy.”

“I like women,” he stated. “And I enjoy sex.”

“You’re not a player are you?”

“No definitely not.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. You’re a man who enjoys the playboy lifestyle too much and when it comes down to it, you just want to have messy, emotionless sex.”

“I’m not sure what part of ‘no definitely not,’ confused you,” he replied, before adding “believe it or not, I’m not the one in my family that has trouble keeping my pants on.”

Did I sense some annoyance in his feelings towards Calisto’s personal life? It was probably best I didn’t delve too much into family matters. It wasn’t any of my business anyways. In fact, his sex life really wasn’t any of my business—though watching Shadow navigate out of my twenty questions minefield was kind of fun. It was good knowing I could hold my own with one of the aristocrats.

“So why not have a relationship then?”

“Too busy,” he replied.

“Too busy with what?”

I could tell he was getting annoyed with me. Perhaps I had pushed things too far? I had a tendency to be oblivious to situations at times.

“We need to go on a few dates,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I asked, surprised. That certainly came out of the blue. He went from ‘I don’t want any relationships this lifetime’ to ‘let’s have dinner and a movie.’ Maybe on top of being an arrogant, rich prick, he was schizophrenic as well—a mentally unstable heartthrob.

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