Midnight Kisses

XXII

As Mischa and I are getting ready for my gig, he asks me what he's supposed to wear. "Hun, just dress fancy and you'll be fine. Maybe a dress shirt, half buttoned with a blazer, and nice suit pants." He stares at me. "You want me to look like I am in stereotypical mafia?" I stare at him and then burst into laughter. "Yes! Yes." I respond finally. "Okay.".

I put on more glamorous make up this time and put on a more scandalous outfit. A low-cut dress, black and short, with stockings reaching up to my thighs. My last touch ups include heels and a wig, making me appear more feminine. I walk out of the bathroom, fully ready is an oversized leather coat. I get Misch's attention by closing the door to the bathroom and he eyes me up and down. "Is this how you would dress back in France?" He asks slowly. "Yes, darling. This was my outfit for the club." His face turns red, but says something that makes mine boil as well, "Uhm... Do you happen to have shorts on?" WHY WOULDN'T I? "OF COURSE I HAVE SHORTS YOU DUMBASS!" We laugh together. I look at him for a moment, realizing he's ready as well. Never seeing him in something this formal and badass, I grab his face and kiss him. I walk downstairs and call for his name after leaving him steamed up. I hear him whisper to himself, "I have missed too much!". I forgot how much power I had in this outfit.

We arrive at the club, having VIP. I have Mischa wait in the audience for me to come on. This will be my first time performing this song using mon amour as my partner. I'm excited! A guy walks up to me in the dressing room and tries to seduce me. I slap him. "I really did forget how horny the people in private clubs are." He makes a weird growling noise and scurries. Pathetic. "Noel Gruber? You're on in five." One of the workers tells me. I touch up on my lips, recovering from the kiss from earlier. I readjust the wig and walk up on stage.

The music begins to play and I start singing my part. When the music comes close to the partner mark, I signal for him to walk on stage. He looks stressed, but I insist. He walks on stage with some confidence and notices that I've stopped singing. He walks over and lights a fake cigarette for me. I whisper very quietly, "Where'd you get that?". He replies with, "Hold on." And he pulls out a rose. He hands it to me, but I prick my finger and slap him. He stands back up and sees the passion in my eyes. We pull each other in and make out, as I've done with many other men for my performances. He grabs my chest, each hand on different spots, and goes on with the music.

Out of breath, we finished the show and hear the applause. Money flies on stage, as expected, and then we walk back behind stage. "Wow..." Mischa says, as I take all of the uncomfortable parts of my outfit off. "You were amazing!" I look over at him, noticing that I'm much shorter now that I took off my heels. "We were amazing. You're a lot more confident on stage than I remember." He scratches the back of his head and laughs as if he's some cute guy from a movie placed in high school and he's the main love interest. "Quirky main character is a great look on you, love." He becomes red, just like earlier in my room. "Wanna get some drinks?" He nods to answer this question. I take his hand and walk off to the bar. "Martini, please." I ask. "Vodka." I look at him strangely. "Not because it is stereotype. I will take the whole bottle though." My face grows stranger, trying to understand him. "Do you not get hangovers?" He thinks about it for a second. "No. In fact, I can drink two shots of moonshine and only have a small hangover for a day." Okay, why though? "Just stick to vodka." He makes a singular "HA!" noise and orders the vodka. We sit there and chat until some band of teens walk up to us. "How did you get in here?" I ask. I know them. They were freshmen last I was at school. "We told them we know you." I assume this is the team leader. "Aren't you only Juniors?" They nod. I sigh in disappointment. I remember that I really wasn't any better at their age. "So, you two are a thing?! Damnit..." I raise a brow, confusion hitting me. "Give me my money!" A high-pitched girl demands. "Oh! So now we're betting on a graduate's relationship status." I roll my eyes at them. "You two are like urban legends at the school!" At this point, I try to ignore them. "Please, just don't drink." They all nod, promising they won't. I really thought this club was private.

Mischa and I make it back home, around one in the morning. Our bodies covered in bruises, I collapse on my bed, exhausted and too drunk to stay up. "Miiiisssssccchhaaaa..." My head is already beginning to hurt. "Oh, love. I will get you some water, just try and rest." I hear him, vaguely. Everything sounds silly. I wait for a second before my eyes closing, falling asleep for another night. I feel a heavy pressure bounce on my bed. I ignore it. I just need sleep. That's it. "I know you are trying to sleep, but, your lips are dry, you still have makeup on, and I think you would prefer to wear pajamas." I groan in response. My body aching, he helps me clean up and properly settle. I groan once more, having him poor the water into my throat. I literally have no energy whatsoever. When we're finished, Misch lets me lay my head on his lap while he has the TV on at a low volume. "Sleep now." I sleep once more, finally in a calming state after this night.

I wake up to Mischa's phone rapidly ringing. I look at his notifications and notice it's a message about him getting the job. What job? I open it up and notice that it's a baby sitting job. That's sweet. He's trying to help with the money! I'm glad that he's participating in our journey. But how well does he really tolerate children? Usually they make weird faces at him and then he returns the face. I honestly don't like children that much either. They're usually the size of an oversized football, easy to throw. I don't even like sports, they're the only reason I'm athletic. Not that I've thrown a child before... I think. "Hey! What are you doing on my phone?" I get scared until I realize it's just him. "It was ringing, you got the job, but do you even like children?" He shrugs. "I will know when I meet her. Apparently she is eight." I nod, understanding his motive. He starts tonight. I'm excited to hear from his journey.