Chapter 2) Reaching for the Stars

When you reach for the stars you may not quite get one, but you won’t come up with a handful of mud either.
~Leo Burnett

San Myshuno – Blaine age 23, Viktoria age 22

“Man, I am STARVING! How long till dinner?!” complained Blaine, whiny and cranky as he always got when not fed. The term “hangry” was probably coined by someone who met him before.

Unfortunately I had a rough day at work and wasn’t in the mood, so I hissed

“You have been home all day. If you were this hungry, you could have made something and not wait till I get home from work and expect me to make dinner right after I walk in!”

“I am home all day, because I worked last night, and I don’t expect you to do anything. Also, you didn’t just walk in, you took a shower and changed, while I patiently withered away. Plus, do I have to remind you how it goes when I try to cook.” he smirked that crooked signature smile, tonight it had no effect on me, as I testily retorted

“Oh, how kind! But you do have a point, better not have you burn down the entire apartment complex trying to boil water or operate a toaster. Now move, so I can actually work in here. Scoot!” I started pushing him out of the tiny kitchen.

With a grin and a slap on my butt – which only made me grumpier, he left to annoy me more from a barstool, constantly asking nonsensical questions, pushing every single one of my buttons as if his life depended on it.
Oh yeah, Blaine could be ridiculously cute, handsome and charming – but he had flaws too. Nobody’s perfect. Still, I had enough of his antics now.

“Blaine, if you want to live long enough to actually eat, go and do something productive. Just leave me to do my thing without your narrations! Take out the trash or something.” I said, unnerved.

Domestic duties without detailed instructions by me weren’t really Blaine’s thing, so after a dismissive glance at our half empty trashcan he snorted, shrugged, then moved on to his interpretation of ‘productive’, which was to strum around on his guitar, something I normally enjoyed, tonight however it was adding to my strained nerves. By the time I was beginning to place the finished dinner onto plates I suddenly heard

“You know what, babygirl? I have been thinking.”

“Congratulations! I am beyond proud. Hope it didn’t take up too much brain capacity to keep you from walking over here to eat, cos dinner is ready.” I sighed, not even feigning interest.

With a ‘you’ll-pay-for-this’ grin he put down the guitar instantly and did as told, but in between bites aired the perceived epiphany he had.

“I want to make music full time. Find someone who can help me write and produce my own tracks. Maybe pay to record a demo to send to all the big record labels.”

I cringed. All I heard was the sound of Simoleon signs stampeding over us.

“Blaine …”

“No, I have a plan. A real plan. This could work.”

“Operative term ‘could’.” I groaned.

Blaine wasn’t a planner. Trust me, I would know.

“Thanks for that vote of confidence. Here is my plan anyway: I heard of this great guy who helps aspiring artists. We’ll go see him, I’ll perform, if he decides I have the right stuff, he will help us for sure. Babygirl, I can see it now, us rolling up in some fancy limo, you in some expensive, tight designer gown, me in a penguin suit – also some fancy designer of course – at the Starlight Accolade awards with more trophies than we can carry! We’d be rich! I could smother you in fancy things and you would never have to deal with impossible requests by arrogant bosses who are doing nothing but mentally undress you while rolling some x-rated secretary films in their heads.”

I quit saying anything to that. This was Blaine. Sweet and protective of me all our lives, sadly, ever since we were teenagers also always very jealous of any man who showed more than a polite interest in me. I knew the drill. Whatever I would say now that didn’t sound like standing ovations in appreciation of his idea would at best be muffled by Blaine’s seemingly insatiable lust for life and love, the latter usually in physical form. If not, we’d end up fighting, as we both were stubborn as heck. I was exhausted and tired and not interested in an argument or nookie.

After dinner, I went straight to bed, pretending to have a headache.

The next morning, Saturday, everything seemed all right, Blaine had never been one to dwell on things. We did the usual routines, clean, grocery shop, then later that night he took me to a karaoke bar.

I have to admit it was fun, letting loose, singing, we didn’t do badly, mostly because of Blaine. He was good at all things music, completely self taught and he was a natural performer. His confidence rubbed off on me. I started to feel guilty about dismissing his dream. Still, it sounded risky and expensive. We just didn’t have the money, we barely made rent, bills, groceries with a little leeway for the occasional night out as is.
There was no room for expensive dreams in our meager budget.

Once we were done singing, we had a drink at the bar, then left. Strolling through the illuminated, bustling city streets, Blaine proved that to him yesterday’s conversation had only been postponed, not ended.

“Babygirl, tell me this didn’t feel amazing in there. You felt it too, I could see it, the adrenaline of being on stage, I saw you put yourself into the music. Imagine this, but much, much bigger – and live, not canned from a karaoke machine. We are both still so young, we both deserve to live, to enjoy life, experience things. See the world.” Blaine pleaded.

“Oh Blaine.” I moaned and turned to walk away, but he wasn’t done, held on to me.

“No, babygirl. I wasn’t sure before, but now I am, seeing you up there on that stage. You are no secretary to hide away in some dusty, grey office – you are a star! You have always been my star, but it is time to show you off to the entire world. We’ll start small. Contact that guy I know, record a few demos, us together not just me, then I am sure he won’t say no. Say you’ll give it a chance. We could be rich, never again having to worry if we end up living under a bridge the next month. I could finally give you everything you deserve, treat you like the queen you are. My queen.” he had hugged me from behind and after he was done talking, started nuzzling and kissing my neck.

“Oh Blainey … money isn’t everything. This sounds so risky and I am no singer, you know that. You are the entertainer, I like being behind the scenes. Just thinking about standing in front of an audience having to sing … ugh!” I said, my last attempt to protest, while Blaine’s lips trailed little kisses up and down my neck, sending hot and cold shivers down my spine.

“Hmm … sorry you have to speak up. The blood intended for my brain is being diverted now.” he mumbled near my ear. Yep, that was also Blaine. Always up for ‘it’. Always.

I couldn’t help but giggle. Yes, he was crude, but also charming in his own way. I was a sucker for that Blaine-way.

I turned to face him and man, my heart was racing now. Amazing that this man whom I had known since we both were little had such power over me. I could feel my knees get weak, looking into those light green eyes. How I loved those eyes in that unusually bright, light green, like crystals, contrasting his nearly black hair.

He lowered his head and kissed me, after that I was putty in his hands. I didn’t even try fight it anymore.

I tried to look at something other than those mesmerizing eyes, gazed at the sky and exclaimed.

“Blaine, quick, look! A shooting star!”

“I see it, make a wish. I did.” his voice, that amazing voice, near my ear, made my entire body quiver.

“I can already guess what you wished for. I wished for more wishes …” I offered proudly, trying to hide the fact that his seduction attempt bore fruit. If he had attempted anything right then and there, I would have probably not even fought him one bit, public street and all. Yeah, he was that sensual, because I am not normally like that. Not at all, not ever. Except with Blaine. Aside from me being totally crazy about him, he was also one of only two people I trusted with my life, the other being my mother, well aware my blind trust wasn’t misplaced with either.

“Don’t you know if you tell what you wished for it won’t come true? But my dream could come true for us, babygirl. The world could be at our feet, gazing up to us in awe. All those stars could be yours to take.” Blaine painted the picture of fortune and fame.

“Ours.” I corrected softly.

“Does this mean a green light for me?” there was that crooked Blaine-smirk. I didn’t have to see it, I felt his lips near my neck, and I would have agreed to anything right now. Anything.

“Yes Blainey, it does. Let’s try it. Talk to your friend and see what he thinks. We’ll figure it out, somehow, we always do.”

Blaine was crazy-happy, threw me over his shoulder and carried me home, luckily we didn’t live far and you can probably guess by now how the rest of the night went.