Michael Sloan

Michael A. Sloan, 29, he/his baker

Monroe’s eyes immediately zero in on the book in the man above hers hands. It was typical to have a playbill in hand, to google the spark notes of the show while waiting for the curtain to rise. But to bring a script, “forgiven” she smiles brightly up at him. “So are you an enthusiast, or trying to speed read before curtain as a refresher?” She fans the pages of her book so her old notations from undergrad could be seen. “I’m personally a bit of a nerd, so I wanted to re read the original text before seeing the directors interpretation.

“Definitely an enthusiast”, Michael beamed, his gaze dropping from the scrift on his hands, to the book filled with notes and finally upon her face. “I know all the lines from The Lion King, did you know Disney based the whole plot upon Hamlet?”, it took just little to Michael also show his nerd side. Despite not having what people called photographic memory, his hardworking thrived when he was determinated to learn something. He could have been successful on Hollywood if he didn’t feel like he was losing his essence on the process. “Nerd is good”, he chuckled, “Let’s hope for the best that the director won’t ruin the original. It’s so frustrating when you’re looking foward for a book adaption, and they destroy all the magic you once read on those books when they translate them on films or shows”

- 

Isabel had to admit that having chocolate with or without pumpkin and some other spieces sounded divine. She’d always been fond of those two flavours, especially when the weather turned a little brisker and it was time to take some jackets out. “Sounds a lot like you want to get me alone at your home.” She teased before nodding her head. “All you had to say was that you were willing to feed me and I’d likely go anywhere with you or anyone.” Which was half the truth but the male seemed like he wasn’t capable of harming someone so she was confident that she would be safe. “Lemon is pretty good. I do enjoy citrus as well.”

At the mention of a proper first date, the brunette paused to look at him with slight surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be so forward but she was enjoying it thus far. “I don’t think anyone would miss me enough for me to say no so I’m happy to finish the show with you or we can just wander off somewhere else. I’d be happy to taste the pumpkin treats tonight.”

Michael chukled, his cheeks blushing again with her words. “Who said I was going to take you at my place?”, he teased back, amused despite being a bit shy with her fowardess. People were used to a more modern approach on how to date others, and Michael was the opposite, and liked to deal it in a more old fashioned manner. No matter how attracted he was feeling about Isabel at the moment, he wanted to respect her, and get to know a bit more about her before allowing himself to be vulnerable with her. “Really?!”, he was delighted, “I believe we’ll get along very well, ‘cause I do enjoy feeding my friends, and people around me”, he said with a small nod.

There it was, people would always look at him with the same face at the mention of dates, and he was used to it. However, there was a small frown when she said she wouldn’t be missed, nor that she’d accept his ‘invitation’, but there she was, willing to go wherever he’d want to. “This isn’t right, you know. I don’t buy that anyone would be missing you”, he said and darted his gaze from her to the place where he’d come from. He had a few acquainted people there, and it was acceptable that he wouldn’t be missed, but not Isabel. He looked back at her, and then decided. “I really can’t watche another piece of this play”, he offered his hand and a gentle smile to her, “Would you like to be one of the first people in New York to have a taste of the best 2022 pumpking cupcake?”, now, that was the dorkiest date invitation ever.

=

The brunette had to admit that she was a little taken aback by the notion that he’d mentioned he would have had to take someone out on dates before sleeping with them. It was an open door and she’d fully expected that he would have jumped in and began to flirt. Most men would have taken that opportunity without second thought. 

“So you’re a dater. That’s good to know.” She wasn’t necessarily someone who went on dates but she could respect it. “Chocolate. I’ve got a big sweet too but I do enjoy pumpkin. Mainly because I’m eager to welcome the colder weather.” She admitted honestly before her hands settled on her hips. “What is yours? I’ll buy it for you, my treat.” She smiled at him and looked over the selection. Her desire was to get to know him and get information so she’d play the game that she needed. “Not quite a first date but close enough, right?”

Michael raised an eyebrow, partly flattered that the gorgeous woman in front of him was showing interest on him, and another part a bit shy. He just couldn’t do flirting and just act like other man. He was taught to be a gentleman. “Chocolate is everyone’s favorite, that’s a fact. I’m working on a new recipe, with pumpkin and a few spices for the holiday season, maybe you can come over and have a taste, on the house”, he suggested. “My favorite? Well, it’s hard because I like so many, but I must admit that lemon is my favorite one”

Michael said and smiled at her. He was enjoying this conversation so much, he just couldn’t see any malice or second intentions coming from her, except from the fact that she was interested on him. He chuckled, his cheeks blushing red for a moment. “We could like watch the rest of the play together, then that would be a proper first date”, he pointed out, “Unless you’re here with someone else, or friends. They would propably miss you, would’t they?”

=

The brunette had been on to meet people regularly but there were some faces that she just couldn’t forget and his was one of them. He was attractive, of course. Tall with fair features and he had always been polite. “It’s nice to meet you as well, again.” She said with a laugh as she reached out to shake his hand only for it to return to her side when she was done.

“I’ve always been buying cupcakes so that may be where we’ve seen each other.” IT could have been anywhere if she were honest. A brief sighting on the street or a full blown conversation in some bar because both were of a constant occurrence in her life. “We definitely haven’t slept together. I’d remember that.”

“It could be, yeah”, Michael nodded with a small smile, his head dropping down a second before he turned his green eyes back on her face. He’s frustrated by not really knowing where or when he had seen Isabel before. Maybe it was at the bakery shopping. However, one thing he was certain, this was the first time ever he was really talking to her this way. 

He couldn’t help but to laugh at her next commentary, his cheeks blushing just for a moment, “No, we haven’t. And I’d remember that, because for that to happen I’d take you for a couple of dates before”, Michael retorted with a small smirk, his gaze turning back to the empty stage, “So, you buy cupcakes, right? You have a favorite one?”, alright, this wasn’t one of his brighetest moments but he desperated needed to change the topic before he’d start babbling and blush even more in front of the beautiful woman in front of him. Talking about sleeping together, and then dates... What was he thinking when he said that?

=

She couldn’t seem to focus on the speaking part of the night. Rather she’d be sitting here and trying to deciphering something that made little sense without paying close attention to it. Her eyes scanned the room to try and see if she noticed anyone, taking note of familiar faces and who they spoke to. There were a few she had to keep an eye out and she did so subtly with her back pressed to the wall. 

Her eyes peered down at the card that she’d picked up, scanning into and memorizing what was written to it before she handed it over to him. “Don’t worry. I figured that it might be important.” She flashed him a smile and looked him over in mild confusion and interest. “Michael. We’ve met before and I’m trying to figure out where. I’m Isabel.” She extend her hand to meet his, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, again.”

“That’s very graceful of you”, Michael returned her smile with a small nod of his head and a midly firm shake of his hand. “I know”, he sighed, in relief knowing he wasn’t imagining things. “I have the same feeling. Nice to meet you too, Isabel. Again”, he chuckled and let go of her hand, noticing anything about her that would make him remind from where they’ve met.

“You haven’t been buying cupcakes lately, have you?”, he tried, hoping it would give him a hint. He was sure he had heard her before, but something was a bit off, almost like they hadn’t met in the twilight, nor during daylight. And to be real, he wasn’t that sure she had ever gone to the bakery shop, at least not when he was there. Perhaps she’d have a better memory than his. 

Michael Sloan at Shakespeare at the Park (August 2022)

—

If it’s up to me, she thinks, It will. Then, however, the most obvious epiphany of all: it won’t be up to her. Whoever that girl is, the one who writes flippant articles for Vogue Magazine, she dies tonight. Michael would bring the prettiest flowers to the burial.

The slightest weight he allows to lean onto her is just another form of comfort. They had gotten used to this, once upon a time — when both were players in this world, and found a hiding spot arm in arm. The world clamored for the model, and Lola attempted to hide him under her petite frame. 

“…Yeah,” she returns, quiet. The blunt is just waiting, between two fingers. “I don’t know. I mean, I know. I’m quitting. Tomorrow. I got my last piece ready and everything. It’s not what I’m supposed to be doing, Mike. It’s not. I’m just— you know.” Beat. “You know.” Out of everyone, he was likely to understand this choice. Lola squeezes his shoulder just a little; she’s painfully glad he’s there. “But unlike you, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next.” A laugh — then, off the awaited drag, another laugh. “I can’t bake for shit.” 

Lola passes it back, meeting his eye, and a little shy in her question: “How did you… find, what you were meant to do?”

Michael could have retorted with a clever joke, but he was amazed, and immensely proud of the petit woman in front of him. They both had walked a long journey to that bathroom at the MET, sharing a smoke and talking big, adult conversations instead of talking shit of the dresses and outfits on that night. 

“I know...”, he managed to say and wrapped one arm around her, careful to not wrinkle her dress. Michael was still affected with her news, and he just couldn’t find the right words to tell her, other than, “I’m so proud of you”, he smiled at her.

He frowned a bit, when he quitted the glamorous life, he wasn’t so sure of the next step. He knew the path he wanted to follow, and definitely the one he wanted to avoid it. It was his time to laugh, and he gently bumped the tip of her nose before taking the blunt back. “So you think I was meant to bake cupcakes, hm?”, he teased her, his eyes playful looking back at her, before taking a drag.

“You are overthinking, just take one step at a time”, Michael told her. “You are quitting, and there’s no turning back. You don’t need to have all the answers right away. Just take your time and find out what you are really passionate of”, he said, bumping his finger above her heart and took another drag. “And answering to your question”, his voice got a bit softer, “I realized I like to comfort people, to make them happy. And there’s no better way to do that than through chocolates”, he wiggled his eyebrows and handed the blunt over, “You’ll find what you’re meant for, and I’m here for you, anytime”