Chapter Nineteen

Maeve

Loncey is not what I expected. They are shorter than I thought they were. They also seem more fragile or delicate, even though their physique is broad and muscular. And then there's the way they speak – a soft, deep voice that teeters on being almost too quiet, like I have to really concentrate to listen to what they're saying. It's something I didn't pick up on during our phone conversation and it feels nice to be surprised in this way. And it's not a problem, having to concentrate to hear what they're saying, because most of what they have to say is really, really interesting.

"What do you mean, you can see the Strip from space?" I ask them.

"To a certain extent, it's true. I mean, maybe not outer space, but certainly from the very edges of the Earth's atmosphere, which if you take that to be the Karman line, that's like, about ten kilometers out. There's nowhere else like it on Earth. Nowhere else has as many lights concentrated in a relatively small space, so yes, it's generally considered the brightest place on Earth."

"The Karman line. You really do know stuff about space, don't you?"

"Not space, more the stars."

"But wait," I say, recalling a very distant memory from my childhood. "Aren't a lot of the stars we see in the sky actually planets?"

Loncey nods. "Some are, yes. And of course, you know that our sun is a star too."

"Or maybe all the stars are really suns," I say contrarily.

"I guess that's exactly what they are. Each and every one." They agree despite my attitude.

"But aren't there like a gazillion stars in the universe?"

"No, there's way more than that."

I pull a face at Loncey. "Gazillion is a made-up number," I point out.

"I know, but it's probably still not as many as there are stars. They estimate that there are about 100 billion stars in the Milky Way alone and so if you apply that estimate to all the other galaxies they believe exist in the universe, you're looking at hundreds of billions of trillions of stars."

"Yeah, that sounds like more than a gazillion," I concede. We walk on in silence for a few steps before I speak again. "But we'll never know exactly how many there are?"

"No, Maeve, we'll never know exactly. There are just too many to count."

I let silence fall again and I don't hate it. I almost like it as we walk slowly, navigating the many other people busying the pavement we're on.

"I don't know why but I find that strangely comforting. I like the idea of not knowing just what is out there," I say finally.

"And that's why I love the stars," they say, so softly I almost miss it over the roar of the slow-moving traffic and the chattering people we weave around.

"But how can that," I point upwards, "relate to the other kind of stars you like so much? You know star signs."

"Astrology? They all come from the same place. They have the same roots, and the same purpose. It's all about trying to make sense of the universe we live in and our place in it."

"But they're so different. One is science, mathematics, physics, based on trial and error and exploration and experiments and decades of research and investigations. The other is just… made-up nonsense."

They are quiet for a while, long enough that I turn to look at them and I'm surprised to see a small smile on their face. "One could argue that plenty of research goes into astrology. Its origins date back three millennia, and indeed the very first astrologers were those who tracked the stars' movements and the world around them for long periods of time in order to come up with various theories that form the basis of modern astrology. They were, by today's definition, scientists. And then there are those that have gone to great lengths to back it up with empirical evidence, and that's not even mentioning all the millions of people who testify their lives have been guided by their star charts, who have felt the impact of planets in retrograde, of lunar and solar eclipses, and the phases of the moon. It may not be an exact science, but I was raised not to dismiss people's feelings or experiences."

It takes me some time to digest that little speech. There's a lot in it I don't know much about, and I don't like arguing with someone who knows more about something than I do. Truth be told, I don't really like arguing at all.

"But does it apply to everyone?" I ask, curious now for their answer. "Do you believe it really is accurate for every single person on the planet?"

"I have never asked myself that question so I don't have an answer for you. What I will say is, I think it's possible for one person to believe and for another not to. That's true of everything in life. And it kind of has to be in order for us to all co-exist in some kind of harmony."

"And yet you slid into my DMs telling me that I was wrong to call it bollocks!" I point out eagerly. Okay, maybe I do like to argue a bit.

"You remember that?" they ask and I don't know why but the question makes me wonder if I've revealed something I shouldn't have although I can't place what exactly it is. "Yeah, I was probably just looking for an excuse to talk to you again."

Their words stun me.

"Why would you need an excuse?" I ask, tentatively.

I continue to be surprised when their elbow juts out and nudges my arm. "Because you shut down our conversations more often than I take hot showers."

"I didn't…" My mouth opens to say more, but I don't know what words to use.

"It's okay," they nudge me again, gentler this time. "I get it. You're a busy woman. Your inbox must be overflowing all day, every day. The last thing you needed was some queer topless porn star bugging you."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you are the only queer topless porn star in my inbox."

They turn to me with their hands on their chest. "What an honor. I'm going to put that in my MyFans bio."

"Don't you dare!" I point a finger at them before dropping it as I become aware of a small crowd gathered in front of us.

That's when I hear the music. Orchestra music with sweeping strings that is slightly distorted because of the speakers it's playing through. It's dramatic and even though I don't recognise the song and the hum of the crowd continues, I am grabbed by it.

"You want to stop and look?" Loncey asks and I realise then that there is more to the music.

"At what?"

"We're at the Bellagio," they say with a nod over the top of the crowd's heads and I realise they're talking about one of the hotels, one I have heard of before.

"And?"

"The water fountains. It's a whole thing," they say with a leading smile.

"Okay." I smirk. "Show me this whole thing then."

And they do. They take my hand and meander through the crowd until we're through the thickest part of the throng and I'm staring at the vast water feature in front of the elegantly grand-looking Bellagio hotel.

There are jets spurting out water left, right and centre. The water moves up and down, and often diagonally, and always in time with the music. It's both impressive and utterly ridiculous and I find myself smiling as I watch.

"Is this like a Vegas rite of passage?" I lean closer to Loncey to ask.

"I mean, I guess… although it's quite a tame one. Of course the shotgun wedding at Elvis Chapel is a few levels up."

I scoff. "Well, I don't think I'll be doing that."

"Never say never," they tease gently.

"Oh, I have said never," I say assertively, arms folded. "I am never getting married."

Silence follows my statement and I turn to Loncey to see what they make of it. Much to my surprise, they have a thoughtful expression on their face, like they're thinking about the right thing to say.

"I don't think I'll ever get married either," they finally say.

"On account of you being poly and aro and – have I missed one of the hundreds of abbreviated labels in your bio?"

"Oh, Maeve," they feign being flattered. "You remembered my bio. But yeah, I guess those two things are good reasons why it's not going to be in my cards."

There's a note of sadness in their voice, or maybe it's just my mood as the music changes and the melancholy chords of a song I do recognise begin. Time to Say Goodbye.

"Hmm, your cards," I muse, still leaning close enough to touch their arm and I don't know why but I don't hate how they don't move or pull away. "But what about the stars?"

I feel their body shake a little with some light laughter.

"My stars have taken care of me so far. I figure whatever they have in store for me, it can't be that bad."

I can't help but chew on those words, or rather the comfort, the peace that is audible in their voice. I may think astrology is absolute bollocks, but that doesn't mean I don't envy that sense of wellbeing they clearly get from it.

Rather than think on this anymore, I recall what we were talking about.

"I mean, that's what I'm saying. Not getting married isn't the end of the world."

"And why don't you want to get married?" they ask me, their head turning my way. I hold eye contact for barely a second before I look away. Their brown eyes are too intense. Their calm smile too at ease. Their question too… too close to a topic I don't, won't talk about with a stranger.

"I like my life." I shrug. "If it ain't broke, don't try to fix it."

It's not a direct answer. It's a clear deflection. It's not even contextually relevant. But perhaps I deliver it with enough assurance, because when I finally look back and lock eyes with Loncey, they nod at me once and then go back to watching the waterworks.

We watch the rest of the performance in silence, and as Time to Say Goodbye continues to play, I realise there's no shifting this slight sadness that has settled in my stomach after that conversation. I immediately blame it on the jetlag. I'm always emotional when I'm tired. Maybe that's a Cancer thing too…

"Don't you want to film it? You know, for a video." Loncey's voice interrupts my thoughts.

I blink at Loncey. "No, no I don't," I say honestly. And it's not just because it must be one of the most recorded attractions in the country, filling hundreds of thousands of hours of footage, but it's because I want to watch it with my own eyes. I want to watch it and enjoy it. Because I am enjoying it.

It's so silly. It's such a waste of water and electricity and yet I'm moved by it. I find myself swaying with the music and oohing now and then with the crowd. And I'm smiling. I'm really smiling.

It's charming. It's beautiful.

It's romantic as fuck.

And yet here I am standing next to a virtual stranger, my hair unwashed and unbrushed, my face make-up free and my clothes… just fecking shocking, the lot of it.

It only adds to my feelings of being undesirable, making them impossible to shake.

Fuck, I need a good night's sleep. And maybe an orgasm.

When it's all over, the crowd immediately starts to disperse and I don't know exactly what to do or say to Loncey. Do they still want to walk? Should I just make my excuses and try to sleep off this low mood? I'm about to suggest I do just that when Loncey speaks.

"You know I've never actually seen that myself before," they admit, moving to face me. "And it wasn't that bad. It was actually kind of cool."

I nod my head. "Yeah, it kind of was. But you know, that seems strange you've never seen it before. I mean, you said you've lived here all your life."

"Guinness Museum," they remind me.

"Right, or the Guinness Storehouse," I correct them.

"You know, if I ever make it over to Dublin, you're going to have to take me to that damn museum."

I tsk. "Why on earth would you want to come to Dublin?"

That seems to amuse them. "Why on earth wouldn't I? I've never left the US. Anywhere else would be exciting to me."

I squint at them. "You've seriously never gone abroad?"

They shrug. "I haven't really wanted to. I don't like being too far away from my sister."

I nod, remembering. "How is Jessica?"

"She's okay. Prince has worked a lot of magic with her mood. And she's… she's got this close friend, and… well, I have this feeling that something is going on there."

"Taylor?"

"Wow. You really do remember things."

"Go on, aren't you going to tell me that it's like a Cancer superpower or something?"

"That could just be a Maeve superpower," they reply after a moment's thought. "But I'll look into it."

It takes quite some effort to bite back the silly grin I want to give them. I shake my head and gesture for us to keep walking so as to cover it up. "I interrupted. You were saying about Taylor, and Jessica."

"Yeah, Taylor and Jessica. They're close… really close. They, you know, they like each other." Loncey falls in step with me as we walk at a slow pace.

"Like, like each other?"

"Yeah. And I don't… I don't know if that's such a great idea."

"Why not?"

"My sister… she can't get close to too many people. Her risk of infection is much higher than for those of us who don't have CF. I just can't help worrying that if she starts fooling around with someone, it could put her at more risk of getting sick. I know that's fucked up but I just can't help it."

"But maybe it's not sexual?" I offer, only too aware of the heat prickling up my back. It's the same hot defensive feeling I have when people just assume that all relationships are sexual. "Maybe they just have deep romantic feelings for each other."

"Does it make me a wimp if I say I don't want to know that about my sister?"

"Yes, definitely." I nod assertively. "Does she know what kind of work you do?"

"Yeah," they reply with a wince, which tells me they know what point I am trying to make. "I've always been honest with my mom and with Jessica."

"Then I think your sister can cope with you asking her if she's going to take extra precautions should she start a sexual relationship with Taylor. And also, you told me you were raised to be a feminist. This is not very feminist of you, trying to prevent your adult sister from entering into a possible relationship with someone who clearly cares about her."

They shake their head and rub at their brow. "Fuck, you're right."

"I have my moments," I give them one of my famous MaeBae's hair tosses. "Why don't you tell me what you're really worried about?

They blink slowly and when their eyes open there's a new vulnerability there. "Aside from infection risk, I just think it will make things so much more… complicated. Harder. For Jessica. Taylor lives this totally normal life of work and going out and socialising and doing, you know, all the normal kind of things a twenty-six-year-old does. My sister, she doesn't live like that. She can't live like that. It can't last, Jessica and Taylor. It just can't. Then their friendship will be over. And all this will do is cause my sister pain and I don't want her to have any more pain in her life."

I want to open my mouth and tell them that if they both feel the same way about each other, however that may be – sexual, romantic, platonic, or one of the many other ways we experience attraction – then Loncey needs to get out of their sister's way. They need to know how rare it is for two people to feel the same way about each other.

But I second guess myself. Would they even understand? They have sex with strangers for a living. They must think that intimacy and sex and fuck, even relationships must drop out of the sky whenever you want one. They probably have no clue how hard it is for some of us to find someone who wants to connect in the same way you want to connect with them.

No, not hard. Impossible. At least it is for me. Because who would want to be in a sexless relationship? Who would want to live their life missing out on one of the most ‘natural' and ‘human' parts of life? Who would want to love someone who will never be able to make love with them?

The beginnings of tears start to warm my eyes and I blink them away.

"I should go back to the hotel," I say, turning abruptly and setting off in the opposite direction.

"Wait, what?" Loncey has to skip to catch up with me. "Um, I was actually going to get some food on the way back. We could grab a bite together, if you like."

I do like. I haven't eaten anything but mini-bar nuts and aeroplane food since yesterday. I'm hungry and I don't want to just eat yet another depressing room service meal alone. Even with all that aside, part of me really wants to go for food with Loncey to spend some more time talking with them. They're so easy to have a conversation with, and I feel like I'm learning a lot just by listening to what they have to say, absorbing how they see the world. But I'm also feeling emotional and low and lonely. And the only reason I feel all those yucky things is because I'm so very, very tired. Despite my nap, jetlag has kicked in, bringing with it that sagging feeling in my bones and the sensation like I'm walking, thinking, breathing through mud.

And there's something else. Something about their proximity that makes me feel on edge. Like I shouldn't fully relax even though their conversation, their presence, their company feels easy and a lot more natural than I could have ever imagined.

I wish I knew what it was that made me feel a little alert, a little alarmed, but I'm too tired to make any sense of it. I'm too tired to make much sense of anything.

I'm too tired and I'm too emotional, all because of a fucking musical water fountain.

"Rain check?" I ask, turning my head to them.

They smile at me. "It never rains in Vegas."

I don't know why those words and their sad little smile after delivering them pain me, but they do. But I cover it up with one of my famous Mae smiles.

"Then I guess I'll just see you tomorrow at the shoot," I say, and we walk the rest of the way back to the hotel in silence.