Page 103 of Monarch
My heart is beating so loudly and proudly by the time I reach the final painting that I am convinced it’s echoing through the room. But it’s not. The only sound in the room is my breath and our footsteps. But that doesn’t make me any less aware of it as I take in this final painting of Roos. And it’s not just Roos, of course. Lex is there too. They are standing opposite each other, like in my last painting. But they are not touching. In fact, their hands reach out between them, stretching for the other, but they don’t touch. They stay out of reach of each other. It’s powerful, and it’s so clearly symbolic. And yet, again, I stop myself from coming to any conclusions.
Instead, I take in a deep breath, turn around, and wait for Roos to do the same. When she’s ready, we both start to walk towards each other. We meet in the middle of the room, just in front of the stage. I hold Roos’ hands in mine. Her eyes are wild and searching. Her smile cannot be contained.
“What does it mean?” she asks me.
“I don’t know,” I say.
As if to answer us, the curtains move next to us, opening. We turn our heads and stare at the stage as it appears, all lit up.
At first, it’s hard to know what to focus on. My eyes struggle to decide what they want to look at first because there are two things up on the stage that demand immediate attention.
For up on the stage, there is another painting. It’s huge, easily three metres by two high. It’s the same colourful blend of busy, abstract brush strokes depicting people.
Three people. Me, Roos, and Lex.
I want to study the painting up close. I want to see where we blend into each other. I want to examine our expressions – Roos’ closed lip smile, my thoughtful half-grin, and Lex’s big eyes looking back at us – and I want to lose myself in the things it makes me feel.
But I can’t. The painting is not what wins the fight for my attention.
Because next to the painting is a figure strapped to the St Andrew’s Cross, completely naked but for the cuffs that hold ankles and wrists in place and a ball gag in xir mouth.
Lex.
METAMORPHOSIS PART SIX: BUTTERFLY
Chapter Forty-Five
Lex
Roos is the first to move. She rushes up to the stage and places her hands on it, looking up at me and making me feel like some Jesus Christ impersonator, which is not what I was going for. Perhaps if I had thought this through a bit more, I would have seen how it would look at first with them down there and me up here, but I don’t think Jesus would have been naked and ball-gagged in a queer sex club, so hopefully the comparisons will fade away soon once Mari and Roos realise what I’m really doing.
Actually, I take that back. Jesus would totally have enjoyed being naked and ball-gagged in a queer sex club.
I push all thoughts of messiahs out of my head when Mari joins Roos at the foot of the stage.
“Wait, Roos,” they say, putting a hand on Roos’ shoulder.
I knew they would be the voice of reason in this whole scenario, and I wait eagerly to hear what they have to say. To my surprise, they don’t talk to me. They turn Roos to face them and speak clearly and loudly enough for me to hear.
“Do you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
Mari glances at me. “Play with xem.”
“I don’t think this is just playing,” Roos replies.
Clever girl.
“No, I get that.” Mari looks behind me, at the painting I’ve been working on for the last five months. I’ve never worked so slowly on a painting. I’ve never wanted something to be so perfect.
“But look at xem.” They both turn, and I feel the heat of their stare on my naked body. “Xe is gagged. It doesn’t look like xe wants to talk.”
Mari is also smart. I’ve never doubted that for a second.
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m asking you if you want to do this, with xem, and still be okay with not having answers, not having a reason for why xe disappeared again. Are you okay with having xem come and go like this? Maybe that is what xe wants for the future. Are you okay with that?”
