raise your glass
the year was... one I could not pinpoint if my life depended on it. Hopped in the train just in time to have more than enough time before the event - I just did not know it yet.
A one-night stay to take some photos in the beautiful old theatre in the heart of the city. A tiredness I always dismissed (ignorance will cost you bliss...) easy to mask with whatever uppers I allowed myself to have.
I run inside, hearing the muddy sound of my shoes on a dirty and wet red carpet (oh yes! très chic) - "oh shit I'm late" - run upstairs and see everyone just... hanging around... There's a massive delay because of the weather. Time to bring my bpm down a notch. "fuck...". as always, there I was, alone, in a corner, like a princess that crossed a forest, using 2 minutes to find the courage to just sit on the ground and not fear weird looks of "she doesn't belong here". There was never an excuse not to sit on a carpet if I looked and was in shambles - I wouldn't do the same now... I think - don't quote me on that. [read more]
I walk to the bar for a gin and tonic, not even looking at the gorgeous interior. The place was steaming hot, and I was wet and stressed. By tonic, I mean any fizzy drink that is not tonic, just a fizzy sweet drink - and I notice him looking at me... I sit back down.
tall. Lean. Blonde-ish? Semi-wet, straight hair that seemed purposefully coiffed that way. Stylish. Cool. He was alone, and he approved of me sitting there. I felt better. He seemed lost yet firm in whatever he was there for. Serious. Just like me - but without my discombobulated look of having the clothes stuck to my skin from the rain while in a super hot closed environment.
in what seems to be a superhero outfit... well, it's not, but it has that same drama of a uniform. All black, head to toe, nice leathery black shoes. A peek of a well-buttoned shirt with a cool reflecting round object where the top button would be and the same white peeking below a very plain black sweater. Arranged disarray.
he didn't smile at me as much as he raised his glass and bowed slightly. I smiled and raised my glass. I didn't care for words. We cheered in the air towards each other. He waited for two more seconds and turned more serious. Doing a swift turn away from me, he swished his jacket-that-was-more-like-a-cape around in the air... and disappeared.
he was gorgeous, not just attractive - charismatic... And the sexiest part of this wonder human that fell on earth was his blue eye.
yes, his blue eye. Singular. He was wearing a simple black eye patch, with some hairs falling over it. And that detail made him the perfect model of a human I deemed adequate for that night, on what ended up an unexpectedly boring event...
he was the recipient of an award for some animated short... and though they presented him; I was half-asleep, cold and tired with enough pictures of what I needed - I do not know who he was or is. I hope he's well. I hope he kept the style. I hope next time he will understand the language and not be all alone.
he wasn't a character... just himself. And that black eye patch he wore made sure I'd never forget that night.
I still wonder if the patch was just for fun though... or if he was aware of the "effect" it had. It suited him. Is it bad that I wish he needs it?
cheers to you, stranger in the past - rain is coming in a bit and this faint memory came to say hi
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