Blasting Off in 5... 4... 3... 2...

he had filed away those initial complaints for later, once he made the startling realization that petrel had wormed his way onstage. faba didn't know how he knew it, he just did. from how his absence grew suspiciously long, how the lead looked in his direction one too many times. it felt deliberate. those eyes, even from so far away, pushed against the barrier he had unwittingly cast around himself in his simmering like a wall.

petrel's flight, that business to attend to, could have easily been forgiven for its humor and its audacity — oh, how faba had laughed! — if it didn't involve kissing the other actors in the end, the very affection he was so wrongly denied.

it crossed him. it crossed him so deeply that he failed to see it for what it was — staged. that was his, yet it had been withheld for another with faba outside of the spectacle, looking in, humiliated. but he could have guessed that things might go this way eventually.

at least his complete and utter dismissal had some flair. but even so, she won't get away with it. no one ever did.

"oh my, how clever," faba greets petrel pointedly when she returns to their seats. it's clear though, from his pinched face, from how rigidly he crosses his arms, from how another glass of wine has gone, much too swiftly to have been savored, that he is no longer amused.

"I was so enchanted by your display in fact, that I almost failed to realize how I have overstated your respect. almost," he continues hotly, rising to his feet and crossing the room to deliver her a piece of his mind before she can get a word in edgewise.

"but now I must wonder! who really is your intended date tonight? the one turned down, or the one receiving your affections for all to see? were they in on this, too? perhaps they laugh at my expense even now! hah!" that prospect alone is more than infuriating enough.

He had to know what Faba thought— and boy did Faba let him know!

Where Petrel had been expecting to be met with delight or confusion. Hell, she would have understood bemusement or if her stunt had gone completely unnoticed. Instead, Petrel was met by Faba's ire, her little act having been interpreted so unfavorably. In turn it was Petrel who was left bemused by the situation.

Taken aback as he was, at first all Petrel could do was watch and listen as Faba made his displeasure known. As he drew back a hand to threaten him for the perceived slight. If Petrel were in his right mind, this nasty turn Faba had made might have made him second guess pursuing Faba any further.

But Petrel was not of her right mind. Where Faba's jumping to conclusions and threat would have been a deal breaker for anyone else, Petrel saw his heightened emotions as an opportunity and a challenge. She could still fix this.

"That was not a kiss— not a real one anyhow," Petrel said, holding up his hands defensively. "It was a stage kiss! Our lips never met. It's standard practice, I assure you..."

That alone was surely not enough to extinguish Faba's anger. Perhaps a bit of proof would help.

"I can demonstrate if you would like." Her tone was soft and pleading, hoping to disarm her date. "Please. I want to show you... Then you can be the judge and tell me if I have wronged you. I will accept whatever punishment you deem worthy if my excuse is found wanting..."

Nerium Oleander - Ralf Jurszo , 2026.

German, b. 1947 -