~ Tiero

Tiero watches quietly at the darkened road in front of him, feeling absolutely clueless of his whereabouts. His driver continues on, claiming familiarity over the hilly suburban area, and takes yet another left turn, passing another row of solemn houses barricaded by the tallest fences Tiero has ever seen in his life. He marvels at their designs, the various architecture styles he has quickly noticed, one house almost completely different from the other.

“Is it safe here?” he finally asks.

“Yes, Young Master,” nods the old driver, taking a right turn this time, down a steep slope lit by a set of 18th century gas lamp replicas. They glow eerily underneath a dense row of trees, their boughs hanging low enough to barely scrape the roof of his car.

“Why the high fences?” Tiero asks again. He squints at the view in front of him, seeing almost nothing but darkness but headlights trailing along the surface of the road, bending gently eastward into an empty hilltop of grass. He wants to ask where they are but he begins to notice a low line of white picket fences along the road and a gateless footpath marked by a red mailbox, standing solemnly in the drizzling rain underneath a stooping lamp. He can see nothing else but absolute darkness ahead.

His driver stops just by the red mailbox and turns to him.  “We’re here, Young Master,” says the old man, awaiting further instructions.

Tiero shifts uncomfortably on his seat, noticing a soft glow coming from where the footpath ends. A small window, maybe, he squints, and the next house is some hundred meters away from them, standing at the edge of thick unadulterated darkness between them.

“Wait here,” he says and steps out of his car, walking warily past the stooping light, its red mailbox, and toward the soft glow that grows brighter as he steps near. A rabbit knocker, he notices, staring at a set of rounded wooden doors in front of him, the soft glow apparently coming from within a huge looking hole of glass and wrought iron bars.

He touches the knocker slightly, feeling its cold iron surface, and decides to give it a swing. Or two, he shrugs. Tiero takes a deep breath and grabs the knocker by the face. “What the hell,” he murmurs, readying himself for his first swing.  He looks at the looking hole again, noticing movements coming from inside the house and gives a silent jump as one of the doors swings open, revealing a hallway of soft golden lights and Sia, greeting him with a smile on her face.

“Oh good God, Sia!” Tiero cries out, almost slipping on the wet doorstep.  “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry,” Sia smiles, leaning slightly on her door, her pale face flushed by the cheeks and her ebony hair tied loosely at the side.  He can hear soft music coming from somewhere inside the house and a warm smell of toast wafting past her.  His stomach gives a sudden churn, reminding him how famished he is after being completely neurotic for the past eighteen hours, consuming nothing but water and countless cans of cold diet Coke.

Sia glances toward Tiero’s car and turns to him with a questioning look.  “It’s a little late for your driver to wait up for you,” she says, “And it’s a long drive back to your house.”

“He can go if you don’t mind,” Tiero replies, feeling his heart skipping a beat.

Sia looks at him again, her eyes gently washing over him just the way they used to, and she nods, pulling a tiny smirk at the ends of her lips.

“Go get your stuff,” she says, “And come inside before it starts pouring squirrels, cats, cows and dogs again.”  She slips inside leaving her door ajar, and Tiero scrambling quickly to his car for his things, ordering his driver to go home without any further instructions.

The old man looks at him bewilderedly.  “Should I pick you up tomorrow, Master?” he asks carefully.

“No, no, you shouldn’t,” Tiero shakes his head madly, grabbing his two bags, a jacket, and a pair of his trusted sneakers, nearly slipping off the wet pavement below him. “Don’t say a word to anyone. Just go home. Thank you. Good night!” He slams the door shut and rushes back into Sia’s home, hobbling awkwardly with an armful of his belongings, hard rain begins pelting down on his head.

Squirrels, cats, cows, and dogs, Tiero grins, closing the door behind him with a push of his foot. I’ll take you on any day now.

 

~ Tiero

Tiero looks at the time. Just twenty minutes past midnight. The hotel lobby has grown quieter though he can still see familiar crowds lingering around the coffee shop. Certain celebrities are still being interviewed though he can’t see either Tei Shakan or Hanne Tahn around. Maybe they’re tucked away in a corner somewhere or have somehow managed to get away. He can still see the co-founder of his company making conversations in the tea room, but all of it interests him little. He has his mobile phone in his hand, touching its smooth surface, wondering if the hour is decent enough for a call.

But it has been a bizarre evening and Sia is an insomniac after all. Maybe. He reminds himself that he no longer knows her the way he did back then, and a lot can change since then.

Still …

Tiero wanders slowly outside the hotel doors and spots his car driving up the entrance. There’s the after party at a club not too far away; there’s his lovely soft bed waiting for him at home; or there’s somewhere else he can be, only if he makes the call.

Which will it be, he asks himself? He toys with his thoughts for a moment and decides to dial her number. Despite his fatigue, he has gone beyond tired and his mind is completely wide awake.

He steps into his car, relishing on its comfortable seats and the cool surface of their soft leather, and tells the driver to take him home, her number still ringing in his ear.

“Hello,” greets a husky voice on the other line.

Tiero manages a smile. “Hi you.” He can almost hear her smile.

“Hi back,” Sai replies softly. She sounds tired but comfortably cheerful. “You all right over there? How was it?”

Tiero smirks. “All good. You pretty much stole the limelight but we all got through just fine. I guess you were pretty much It tonight. Everyone was buzzing about who you are but from what I heard, Tei Shakan and Hanne Tahn gave very little to the media. You should be safe.”

“For now,” she chuckles lightly. There’s a slight pause for a quiet sigh. “I’m very sorry for ruining things for you. I didn’t even know it was your event.”

“I didn’t think you would,” said Tiero consolingly. He notices the monsoon rain has subsided for the night and pauses for a thought. “But I’m glad. You looked absolutely stunning tonight. With the way you stood there and Moeya’s animation in the background, it was a perfect shot.”

“Ha-ha, funny.”

“Seriously.”

Tiero glances outside and leans his head on the cool surface of the window, watching streetlights paint blurry red and orange lights on his face.

“Seriously,” he repeats himself slowly, “You were immaculate.”

“Thank you,” Sia chuckles again. “I’m glad you got what you needed.”

“Are you tired?” he asks. “Seriously.”

“A little,” she replies, “But I can’t sleep. You know me.”

“You need company?” he asks, “‘Cause I sure can use some.”

“If you can find my little hideaway, then you’re more than welcome,” she smiles. “It’s short of an after party but I can make a mean vodka martini, or lychee, whichever you prefer.”

Tiero can feel a huge smile bursting across his tired face, the kind of smile that turns him red all over. God, she remembers! He can almost jump for joy but his legs are killing him from all the standing around and the running and the slipping … Completely embarrassing but it’ll make a nice story someday, he grins. Yes, someday.

“Tell me how I can find you,” he replies almost coyly.

“Let me speak to your driver,” says Sia, almost laughing it seems, “He still makes a better bet than you.”

 

~ Sia

Rain pelts blur the view behind closed doors; windows washed in random glints of color and light and the car swiftly carries its passenger back to where she belongs. Its plush upholsteries hold impersonal scents, their surfaces clean of those tell-tale signs of use. It’s hardly brand new and Sia knows it for a fact, but maybe that’s how Hanne is; an ether of a person, elusive and impenetrable, only the warmth of of his hands that show otherwise.

Tei and Hanne stay behind to answer the swarming hoard of the media and inquisitive enquierers tonight, which is very much almost everyone. Her attendance was brief, calculated to the last minute, and she was whisked away quickly from view. She was glad to see Moeya again, and Tiero. He promised to call her as soon as his duties are over. The awards have turned into a massive pandemonium, its momentum stolen by G. Ane’s revelation, and Tiero will have his hands full. She worries for him, Tei and Hanne, but surely Moeya will find it immensely amusing and her reports will be nothing short of perfect.

Tomorrow, though, Sia tells herself, it can all wait until tomorrow.

What concerns her most is the safety of her own home, her quiet hideaway and the peaceful way she has led her life. All of it will change without the slightest doubt; past loose ends will reconnect themselves almost instantaneously and she will have to deal with them swiftly and mercilessly this time. No quiet passings and defeated retreats; she is stronger now, if not whole, and come hell or high water she will defend what is rightfully hers; the very barricades of her being, her emotions and the continuum of her dreams, and she will not die again for the living.

Tomorrow, Sia reminds herself again, it can all begin tomorrow.

 

~ Moeya

If it is a nightmare, please make it stop.

Please.

“She’s here, Moeya, she’s here!”

Moeya can hear Yuena’s voice from the other end of the radio and scampers off her seat to find Tiero.

“Where?” Moeya hisses, “Can you see where?”

“She’s walking on stage now,” Yuena replies, and Moeya believes her. Yuena is sitting right in front of the master console, the center of all camera screens. Yuena has the best seat in the house and she can see everything Moeya and the rest of the crew backstage can’t.

“She came late,” Yuena continues. “I saw some people coming in; they sat in the middle somewhere, and went up stage straight away. It’s her, darling. It’s Sia! She’s on now!”

Moeya quickens her pace toward the center backstage near the gigantic background screen. She can hear Sia’s voice on the other side, speaking softly in a stable stride. There aren’t real emotions there, Moeya notices, just a weave of gentle words of praises, spoken in the way only Sia knows how.

But something is wrong.

Moeya stops short at the sight of Tiero running from a distance in front of her, in and out of streaming lights from the stage with an expression she can only understand as fear.

“Oh God. No, no, no, not this -”

Moeya grabs the closest person near her, hissing as loudly as she possibly can as she grabs the man off his feet, “Get somebody! Anybody! It’s Tiero!”

She ignores the man’s questions that dissipate at the sight of Tiero scampering toward the backstage stairs. She waves at a group of men squatting nearby, pleading with a blinding panic to stop him from reaching the stairs.

“What’s happening?” Yuena questions her, the girl’s voice panicking at the scuttling noises Moeya makes as she and some of the crew members grab Tiero slipping on the stairs, catching him in time as Sia gives her final words.

“What’s going on?!” Yuena shouts in Moeya’s ear. “Moeya! What’s happening back there?!”

Moeya has not the breath to answer her. She holds Tiero’s slender frame on her shoulder, feeling his beating heart next to her own failing breaths, and hears herself talking to him in a quiet, almost defeated voice, “Let it be, Tiero. Let it be. It’s too late now. It’s okay. Let it be.”

Tiero grabs the railing next to him – shoving the crew member aside – his other arm grabbing Moeya by the shoulder and stares into her eyes with a look she can’t comprehend. But his breath stops short at a roar of voices from the audience on the other side of the stage; a swarm of cameras clicking and flickering flashlights, and thundering noises following the emergence of Sia slipping through the exit behind the gigantic screen, followed by silhouettes of people behind her, protecting her from the eyes of the world.

“Goodness …” Sia pauses, stopping midway the staircase, noticing both Moeya and Tiero in probably the worst expression Moeya can recall ever giving a master guest. Sia squints her eyes to adjust to the darkness around her and walks slowly down to approach them, her face lighting up almost brilliantly with warmth and relief.

“Sia.” Moeya musters an awkward wave. “Hey, hi.” She pushes Tiero to stand up straight, but the guy is already standing rigidly next to her. “Awesome speech,” Moeya continues, feeling foolish all of the sudden.

“Hi,” Sia replies, her smile rising from between her lips and reaches down to hug her. “Hope it wasn’t too bad.”

Moeya steps back, watching Sia in her awesome robe of black and gold, just like the Japanese porcelain princess she always was, gliding gently through the thick silence between her and Tiero, and reaches out her arms slowly to embrace him. There was ample time for Tiero to dismiss her, but he reaches down and engulfs her in his embrace, somehow completely unwilling to let her free.

Moeya can almost die of a sudden stroke, or happiness; either one she can’t quite tell. Her heart palpitates randomly in such a way, everything seems to blur out of sight and voices linger in mid air, floating through her like still waters of the tropical sea, warm as the tears that burn down her cheeks.

“Hi you,” Moeya hears Sia says.

“Hi you,” Moeya hears Tiero’s reply.

“It’s been a while,” Sia continues.

“And I’ve missed you every moment in between,” Tiero replies.

 

~ Tiero

He can hear his heart -

thump thump -

there it goes again -

thump thump -

beating harder and harder as a blanket of silence rises slowly from the very floors of the great ballroom. Hushed voices fade away from amidst seated guests and bystanders along the walls, falling through the shadows like winter mists; and like the tide, finishing at the edge of the stage at the very mention of her name.

“G. Ane!” calls his guest host, a beautiful young model and singer by the podium, raising her arms for an applause from the audience.

Thump thump -

there, again -

panic -

Tiero clenches his fists into a knot of balls, shaking violently in a dark corner backstage, staring at the very stairs in front of him as silhouettes of people – indistinct at first – climbing softly up, their familiar faces revealed under the stage’s golden lights one by one.

Tei Shakan, senior editor of H&S Publishings Ltd., a woman Tiero had known almost half his life. Family friend of his mother’s, a stern and warmhearted woman. Not too far behind her emerges Hanne Tahn, Tei’s trusted colleague who has been in the industry almost as long as she has – silver haired and soft of disposition – famous for his Midas touch.

Tiero can almost hear his breath slipping away from his heart at the sight of the third and last person, her fragile hand embracing Hanne’s outstretched arm;  like a dance, he leads her ever so slightly to the podium where he and Tei stand at the edge of the spotlight, just enough to simply disappear into the shadows and away from the hungry cameras of the media.

And the air grows still.

No. This is wrong.

Tiero stands rigid. It is an image all too familiar in his mind; like a dream that is ever too enticing and all the more fleeting. He watches her movements with eyes wide open, the sway of her dark ebony hair, how they rest beautifully still on her shoulders, and her face void of emotion. Her voice is soft and husky, as it always was, and speaks her words with a gentle kind of conviction, if not unpretentiously humble.

“For all of this and more, I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” speaks the woman, pausing for a moment of breath. Tiero can feel whispers and questions spreaing through the audience, a wave of murmurs engulfing every corner of the room like a rising storm, hungry for blood.

Stop. Please, stop.

Tiero begins to run mindlessly toward the stage center entrance, panic rising from every pulse in his body.

No, this is wrong.

Tiero runs along the backstage alley, jumping through zigzagging cables and crew members, sliding under a row of metal frames and pass the switchboard tables, heavy of monitors and computer screens, blinking eerily in the dark. He can see crew members moving toward him bewilderedly and his radio, buzzing with questions from the floor manager and the switchboard members, Moeya’s voice shouting at him with words he can no longer understand.

Tiero runs to the stairs of the backstage entrance, those very flight of stairs that will lead him to the back of the gigantic screen. He slips on the way, his fingers frantically scampering for support whilst a group of crewman race quickly behind him, screaming in hushed voices of questions that no longer matter to him.

No, for the love of God! No!

But he stops midway the short flight of stairs, his very life drained out of him, and arms of nameless faces grabbing to pull him up to his feet – his shaking feet – that can no longer sustain him. He slumps heavily on Moeya’s shoulder as he hears that very soft voice on stage speak out with such tender resolve:

“My name is Sia. I am G. Ane.”