The description at the doorway made it sound like some narrative orientation about finding soulmates, but the performance was infinitely beyond that. I don’t remember seeing a play before — not even in my past life, as the show implied we all had — but this is nothing like the gigs in restaurants or the spoken slam whatever in those loud cafés. These singers moved as they sang with and to each other. These actors danced or wept or fell to the ground while sustaining a note, and I doubt any character suffered as much as the second lead.
“… I don’t know how to be okay with that,” she ends her song to the lead.
“Then don’t be,” he replies coolly, then walks away.
She watches him leave as the piano quiets down. Her tears fall as soon as he’s gone, and the scene changes from a purple sunset to a blue night.
And it doesn’t fit, doesn’t make sense to me that blue represents sadness. Clearly, it’s pink — the pink of her puffy eyes, her sclera, her flushed cheeks, her pale lips.
"Here,” Jo whispers as she hands me a tissue.
“You brought me out here to cry?”
“At least your first tears here aren’t caused by your own pain.”
The same can’t be said for the time we’re born though. Ramon did mention that our first cry as humans on Earth will be out of pain, but he never said it was out of the grief of leaving this paradise, fear of being alone, and yearning for the half of our soul we’ve been separated from. Again.
I hate the play for making me believe that.
~
The crowd flows out of the auditorium in pairs. There must be an odd number of chairs because I’m the only one who went through the exit alone.
“This was a waste of time,” I tell Niel, but he doesn’t seem to hear me over the exit music.
Navigating through a swarm of people, even one trying to organize themselves, takes some effort, so we link arms without saying a word and go with the flow, ending up at a bar in the same building as the theatre.
The place is cramped, but that’s probably because the actors are here too. The lead actor seems to be enjoying the growing circle around his table, performing a chain of card tricks with his leading lady.
“You can get closer,” Jo suggests. “Tell them you liked the play.”
“Everyone left in pairs. He wasn’t there.”
“Oh, come on!” Jo throws her head back in frustration, and Niel throws me a look from behind her as he signals the bartender. She’s ready to scold me, to go on about the fact that that was not why she brought me here, but I don’t give her the chance.
“And you would’ve made a better script, but the songs were good.”
She smiles, pleased. “Good is an understatement, but yes, I would’ve changed the spoken lines a bit.”
“She edited mine.”
“Paula!” Jo bounces up, then freezes.
The actress looks prettier up close, even with her hair undone and lipstick partially gone.
“You know I won’t stop you from hugging me.”
With all the physical contact she had on stage, especially with the lead, I didn’t think she’d be the type to mind.
It’s odd seeing the actors separated. They look good together.
Jo unfreezes herself and squeezes the shorter brunette.
“I know you’ll forget,” Paula speaks as she hugs the writer back, “but do try to remember that I love you, Jo.”
“Aww, I hope we get to work together on Earth,” Jo replies as she pulls away, and takes a good look at Paula’s dark brown eyes. “You better meet me before Niel though, or he might make you his bandmate before I can give you a role.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“I’ll steer clear of all Daniels before I meet a Johari then.”
“Jo, it’s our song!” Niel exclaims at the sound of a beat starting a new song and grabs his girl’s hand to pull her to the shrinking dance floor.
“Thank God.” Paula exhales as she takes Jo’s seat. She signals the bartender, holding three fingers up and drawing an invisible circle with it near her cheek. “I’ve exceeded my quota for physical contact today.”
“You did well.” It’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth. If it was one of the guys I’ve drawn, I’m sure I would’ve thought of a better response to what she was saying.
“Thanks.” I can’t tell if she’s thanking me for the compliment, or the bartender for her wine. She’s not as big on eye contact as she was on stage.
“So, is your soulmate a co-actor?” Okay. In my defense, the play was about finding soulmates — the challenge and the importance of it even. What else am I supposed to ask to start a conversation?
She doesn’t say anything; just shakes her head.
“You mean … you don’t know what his passion is, or …?”
“I know nothing about my soulmate.”
“B-but how long have you been here?”
“Uhh, two hundred and two days, I think?”
Good God.
She has at least three weeks left — nine if she’s lucky — but she doesn’t seem to care. She might not be born at all.
“Aren’t you worried?”
“About what?”
“Girl?! Your play was literally about finding soulmates. Aren’t you afraid you won’t exist?”
“Says who?”
Her confidence? Astounding. I bet she has a clock counting down to the exact time she’ll meet her man, and she’s just waiting patiently. I’ve met a few of those – guys who rejected me faster than a fleeing ghost crab with utmost faith in their pendants and watches.
Except she has nothing on her wrist or around her neck.
“I already exist.”
“What if you’re not born?”
“Honestly?” Paula twists her entire body to face me, leaning one arm on the bar. “I don’t care. I love it here. I love performing, and if two hundred and something days of doing it is all the life I have, so be it.”
“That means you don’t get to take the test on Earth.”
“Or fate messes up and lets me take the test alone.”
“Like that’s even possible.”
“It’s probably not,” she shrugs, “but it’s fine.”
Fine? Fine?! Being obliterated into smaller than the smallest of dust is not fine.
She’s kidding. She has to be. Her soulmate might be at the opposite end of this world. Attachment to her guild is enough reason to anchor her here, in the southeast. Being too lazy to move to someplace so far is as valid a reason as any. I’ve met a few guys who did the same.
“When did you give up?” I ask, only to humor her in the hopes of finding out why she’d lie. I finish half of my previously untouched beer before she finds an answer on the ceiling.
“It’s been weeks, but now that you mention it, I’m officially giving up today.”
What?!
She chuckles. You should see the look on your face.
Flustered, I shut my mouth, only for a question to make its way out my lips a second after. “Aren’t you being unfair to your soulmate?”
“Do you even know what a soulmate is?”
“‘Half of the soul you once had in your past life.’”
“That’s Dre’s line.” Paula finally looks at me, half a smile on her face. “I take it you’re looking for yours right now.”
“Well, duh! What kind of lunatic wouldn’t?”
She chuckles at that. “So you’re new.”
“What happened to not giving up on the love of your life?”
That’s what her character was all about. I can’t believe the actress’s views — or anyone’s, really — could be the complete opposite.
She lifts her glass slightly and swirls the red liquid. “Everyone’s first question is ‘How do I find my soulmate? Where do I look? When do we meet? How do I know? What if we never meet?’” She pauses, setting her glass down. “That was a lot of questions. The point is, no one asks why we lost them in the first place.”
I feel attacked. So much so that I realize too late I had already emptied Jo’s bottle. “What are you saying?”
“Don’t take my word for it or fate might decide I really shouldn’t exist, but what kind of deity would mold creatures in their likeness only to cleave them in half? Or what if we lost them because we don’t need them after all?”
“No one leaves this place without a soulmate.” Jo said so herself.
“Maybe no one does because they’re too afraid to.” Paula counters coolly.
“Okay. I am not hearing —”
“Hey, come dance with us!” Jo calls out as the couple trips towards us.
Paula shakes her head immediately, and Niel looks at me with a pleading pout.
“Go,” Paula tells me, pointing out Jo’s folded hands with a nod.
It’s unfair she gets a pass from putting up with Jo’s uncharacteristic arm-twisting. She’s the actress; she’s obligated to mingle with supporters and was even previously under the tall brunette’s wing if I’m not reading their interactions wrong.
“You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
So I go. And I immediately regret letting my butt leave my seat.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jo asks as she pulls me to the dance floor.
I realize I’ve never danced with anyone before. All I’ve ever done was talk to people, sometimes eat or walk with them, but nothing else.
“Your friend is weird.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve never seen anyone obsess over their soulmates as you have.” Being the taller one, she places my hands on her shoulders with a playful smile.
It feels good, dancing. It would’ve been better if we were on a double date, but this will do. For now.
“Niel is definitely rubbing off on you.”
“Please. You’ve only known me for like a dozen days.”
And the entire time, she was like an older sister to me. I don’t check on her as much as she checks on me, but I never thought she’d be friends with someone like Paula. Jo encourages me to find my soulmate as much as she reminds me to take a break.
“Does she always talk with finality?”
Her eyes narrow in confusion. “Paula? She’s too indecisive for that. She’s pretty good at acting though.”
I agree. She looks more like a resolute woman than an aimless soul. Shame she’s not spending her remaining days with purpose.