The Two Without Glamour [Amano Writing Club]
A theater draped in dust.
The leads are just you and me.
There are roughly a hundred reddish-brown seats. The curtain is torn, and there is nothing to hide us. Though there is no one to watch us, either. The ceiling has collapsed and peeled away, exposing the gray concrete. The seats are packed with rubble, making it impossible for anyone to sit. The scent of rotting earth and rain. It stinks. It's filthy. If there is one thing to be happy about, it is perhaps that the lighting still functions. Veloria, speaking of the theater she has come to for the first time, looks around before stepping onto the stage. Unlike me, who searches above for surveillance cameras, wondering if we will be scolded for trespassing, Veloria grabs her worn-out dress with her hands and spins to show it off.
---It's beautiful. The elegance, as if she were a character in a story, mixed with the unadorned and unrefined decorations that don't suit her, leaves me filled with both a sense of fulfillment and guilt. No, isn't it fine? Our escape surely has a romance that surpasses even a play, doesn't it? If so, singing, dancing, or pretending here—isn't everything free?
The sound of low heels scraping against the floor makes the false reverie vanish. Still, I play along with Veloria, who pretends not to notice. When I change the direction of the lights in the stage control room, light and shimmering dust rain down upon Veloria. At the sight, as if a goddess had descended, my aimless impatience accelerates and immediately turns into sorrow. "Your hands are shaking. Were you that cold?" With her eyebrows slightly lowered as she asks, my tense body grows hot, and I feel a sense of fainting from the temperature difference compared to just a moment ago. I don't actually faint, though. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." The words that touched the air for the sake of it seemed enough to dispel Veloria's anxiety. Veloria, her mood improved, smiles without a wrinkle on her face, as if continuing the one-woman show from before or perhaps urging me on, and invites me to a waltz. Even if I lack confidence, there is no one here but Veloria and me. No one will know if I fail. "Would you dance with me?" I kneel and kiss her delicate fingertips. I wonder to myself what I am doing. Even so, Veloria's parted lips and apple-red cheeks are, as expected, like a painting reflecting a goddess, and I am captivated. ---It is my first time dancing a waltz without music. Perhaps noticing that I am poor at keeping time, she slides her heels across the floor while humming the Blue Danube. Veloria seems to dislike the stage lighting for some reason, occasionally shifting her gaze upward. "I wish you would only look at me." The unpleasant words, which I should never have said, suddenly slip out. I wonder if Veloria will end up hating me; my heartbeat quickens, and perhaps due to a lack of exercise, I feel a tightness in my chest. If this were a ballroom, I could have covered it up with the noise. Veloria stops humming and asks, "What's wrong? Suddenly." Exactly. Why am I saying such things all of a sudden? I somehow muddle the wavering in my vision and manage to spit out the words I had suppressed in my throat. "It seems you are bothered by the lighting." The words I spoke honestly cloud Veloria's face this time, and I mentally shoot myself for my mistake. Veloria will end up hating me--- "The light cast upon us makes us the villains." Her trembling voice was barely audible, but I understand. Surely, Veloria had already realized it in the end. The ringing in my ears is not much different from a siren sounding in the distance. A boring play.
The lights flicker repeatedly.
"I suppose it's over now."
Veloria, who muttered the words that could be taken as a whisper to herself, carefully releases her arms and steps down from the stage. The time it takes to grow dark gradually lengthens, and it will never shine again. The goddess is finished. The play is over.
---What is left?
What remains is perhaps just worn-out clothes, a rotted theater, bread soaked in rain, and love without glamour.