Chapter Text
I’d not really wanted to come to Paris. Well, I wanted to see Jane. I wanted to meet some new people. But Paris was not exactly on my bucket list.
But, Paris is where Jane was, and there was a city’s worth of new people, so as I disembarked the Flyer I tried to keep a positive outlook. Smile, Clovis, for the world is a stage and we are performing under the scrutinizing eyes of so many…
Jane had told me that her apartment complex was not far from the stop, “Impossible to miss, for I have had it painted it in all the colors of the rainbow with singing sirens leaping from crystal waves!” Not nearly as beautiful as the work of Silver, I heard in my mind. She’d never admit it, but I knew it was true.
Regardless, eventually I found myself facing the fantastic sea-creatures, singing their blessed little sun faded hearts out on ancient stucco, the cracks showing through the paler colors in the mural. The face of a particularly pale siren, one who resembled our dear friend Egyptia a bit more than could be coincidence, was bisected by a gnarly break in the material, the nose looking misshapen because of it. Silver would have found a way to use the cracks as lines and shadows, anything but this.
I tsked as I buzzed the front door bell, announcing my name and business (which should have been fucking but I don’t swing that way, my love-quest would have to wait) to the automated machine. Hardly a minute later the door flung open to reveal Jane, blonde hair tied up in a bun nearly as loose as her white linen sleeves.
“Clovis! I’m so glad that you could make it!” She still talked like that machine, syllables timed like a song. Songs were her life, I suppose, working to write lyrics for the pop band of the month. If a song had Jane working on it, it was bound to be a success. Last I heard she had a four year waiting list of artists trying to get just a chorus from her. A full song would cost one dearly, so only the most established numbers could afford it.
“I’d not miss this for the world.” I lied. There were some events that might have kept me away, but Jane was more important to me than most things, so here I was.
She beamed, ushered me in and up the stairway, lit by neon signs likely thrifted. The only thing I could stand to buy second hand was clothing, things made in the 19th and 20th centuries were just of such higher quality. Well, the right things.
The coffine was cooler than I preferred, and the conversation consisted of nothing I did not already know, but as always I did enjoy Jane’s company. Silver really was the best thing to happen for her, even if it did spoil me for life with that wonderful, magical night we spent together. I can’t even fathom where to start creating a toy that could do half of what came pre-programmed in it. Him. I mentally corrected myself. Jane would cry if i called it ‘it’. Him ‘it’.
I still kept my hair dyed red. A darker shade, and I would never cut bangs into my hair. But the color suited me. I wondered in passing if that bothered Jane. She had confided in me that in some lights, in the corner of her eye, she could confuse me for it. Him. And would feel her heart skip before realizing it was just me. Just little old Clovis, the M-B who can’t keep a boyfriend for more than a month. It’s my own fault, and I regret nothing. But the reputation has started to spread around after so many years, and well, now I am in Paris, and there are so many new people to meet.
But here I am. In Jane’s one bedroom apartment. She owned the whole building, but I insisted on staying elsewhere. I could afford it, and didn’t want her to fuss over my comings and goings. She’s a very caring soul, which I appreciate, but I don’t need another parent. My fathers are just fine, thank you.
Escaping that painted building with the segmented Egyptia, I wandered the streets, grabbing something hot for dinner as the sun set. I had chosen my wardrobe carefully for this trip, long trailing cloaks and leather boots and clips that glinted just so in my hair. I’d brushed up on my French, just enough to be polite in public, but kept an eye out for those who looked just as out of place as myself.
Jane used to tell me I looked like a frog among ferrets when walking through the city, or rather, the parts of the city I’d not frequented like a specter most days. The route from my apartment to the river cafe, or the flyer station, and so on. She’d had a year with Silver to learn the layout of the slums, so of course I could not pick my way through as she had, trained by a talking GPS system.
She’d explained the route to the market well enough, but as I ate my meal, the directions slipped my mind, so I just wandered. Worst case scenario, I had paid for international Policode, so if I stumbled into the wrong sorts of people I could flash the fob tucked under my shirt and be on my way.
In just a few blocks, I’d met a few potential bedmates, but nothing worth pursuing. Perhaps I’d missed a memo, but it seemed that Paris was a woman’s city, couples of females passing by in the dozens before I stumbled upon another man who didn’t stare at me in the ‘frog in a sea of ferrets’ way. Maybe I should have stuck to my original plan of Barcelona…
“Monsieur!” I heard, from behind me. Turning around, I saw a small crowd of people. Probably just a busker trying for a coin. “Monsieur… Please! I remember you!”
The group parted, and I could not believe my eyes. Catching the final flaming apparatus he juggled, the performer gave me a curt bow. “I would just like to thank you. Those years ago, you were the reason I was able to come home again.”
There was no doubt in my mind of just who this was, and without thinking I stepped closer. The fire crept up his metal rods so he continued his act, spinning flame casting shifting light on angular features. Black hair, close cropped and dusted with grey, shone and seemed to glitter as light reflected off of small mirrored discs on his coat sleeves.
“Last time I saw you, I didn’t get your name.” I started in my elementary French. Oh, why didn’t I study more. “What is it?”
“Argyine, but you may call me as my friends do.” He switched over to heavily accented English, and mentally I thanked him for saving me any more embarrassment.
“And what might that be?”
“Argy. And yours?”
“Clovis.”
“Is that what your friends call you?”
“Certainly. And don’t try and shorten it.”
He flashed a wicked smile and tossed his rods even higher, twisting his body between catches to show off an impressive physique, especially seeing he must be nearing my own age of fifty by now. The Rejuvinex had kept me looking closer to thirty, but Argy hardly needed it. The fine lines suited him, as did this enchanting fire-light.
Entranced, I watched his entire act, the whole hour block, and when he finished, my heart sank, needing more. I’d just have to ask for it.
He asked first.
“So, Clo, will I be seeing more of you on this beautiful evening.”
“It’s Clovis, but yes, I would like that.”
“Your place or mine, then, Clo?”
Eventually, I had to move into Jane’s building. The hotel forced me out, stating that there was a six week limit on rooms due to high demand. I tried to fight it, but even a bribe did not make them budge.
Again, the coffine was cold.
“So, it seems you haven’t found a way to get rid of this one without your rigged seance table.” Jane joked regarding my roomate, downing her own cup quickly. That was probably how she could stand it, drink it the moment it came out so the coolness would not set in.
“Something like that. He won’t leave.” I lied, but only partially. The truth was, I hadn’t asked him to go.
Jane laughed. “Well, I won’t be helping you in any of your insane schemes. Good luck.”
I wouldn’t need it. “Thanks.”
Setting the cup outside, I stood up, looking out over the city. In the twilight, you couldn't see the balcony bubbles that dominated the skyline, their lights not yet activated and clear domes invisible, reverting the view to its classical glory.
Jane watched me, I could feel her eyes on my back, but I didn’t budge until I had drank my fill of the scenery. The ground floor apartment had advantages, but the view was not one of them.
When I turned around, she wore a knowing grin. She didn’t say anything though, which I appreciated. Jane was a good friend, never pried. Sometimes she accused, but tonight she decided to abstain, which again, I appreciated. After the incident with it, him, Silver (I should just call it Silver. But the name even could upset her. Him him him…) she had accused me of quite a lot of things, and the habit stuck even though I was entirely innocent, and she knew it.
“Have a good night, Clovis.”
I nodded to her, the returning comment not needing to be said, and eventually found myself out on the street. Argy would be performing on the corner of Mairie and Four tonight, and I intended to go and lean on a pillar, at the back of the crowd, and watch.