Queen of the Sea 4

 Night and day were sharply divided. Her days started in the afternoons when she did rehearsals, practiced her stage persona, and endured an increasingly ridiculous costume wardrobe.   

As she mastered songs, she had to run through the performances in the ballroom as though it was for real, pausing for audience reaction and bowing and smiling and sometimes accepting flowers. That part was kind of fun. Microphones hidden in her clothes and the stage captured each song, but it had to be done again and again to Imile's exacting specifications. Each recording was checked for quality and the way the sound carried down the halls. After a while, visual recordings in crackly historical quality were added, sometimes on the main stage and sometimes in little sets made in smaller rooms.

There was very little room for Brianna's will in any of this. It just wasn't necessary. She was working under Imile's more experienced artistic direction, because apparently Imile's ideas about filling the space of her personal palace extended beyond historical art.   

But being passive was comfortable. It never really seemed worth the effort of mustering an opinion when everything seemed to be well in-hand.

A few minutes before sunset, Imile would dismiss the strangers they were working with- any coworkers were different every day. In privacy, she'd give Brianna any feedback or instructions about the next day.   

After the first day, she must have gathered that Brianna liked to hang back alone to quietly detox from the intensity of full-day rehearsals, because she never tried to pressure her to leave together. Instead, Imile left at her own pace. At most, she seemed quietly amused that Brianna pretended to need twenty minutes to gather her belongings.

Brianna would wait alone. She was grateful that Imile accepted the habit and never asked, because she had no idea how she'd explain herself.   

Sometimes it felt that she wasn't really alive until the sun went down. Her life was all so intolerably beige while she was basically isolated by her schedule. The only peer she ever saw was Brendan, and interacting with him did tend to encourage passivity as well. She only started to feel the anticipatory jolts of nervous energy when she was alone with Imile. The feeling of vivacity strengthened when shadows overtook lingering pools of sunlight.

But the Red Lady didn't come every night.   

The nights alone were satisfying and comfortable, but strange. They passed in an almost meditative quality- time slipped when she wasn't looking and stole her thoughts and held perfectly still. It probably wasn't good for a person to reverse their sleeping schedule for work, judging by how often Brianna found herself absent-minded.

Sometimes she blinked and realized that she had been looking into an antique mirror for a weirdly long time, because she was vain garbage. Other times, she woke up in bed still wearing her signature necklace and couldn't remember what she'd done with the night before that had really taken up 6 hours. She started off with projects sometimes- repairing a button on a coat that she didn't want to bring back to the costumer, reading through something she had borrowed from the little employee library- but she didn't always find the time to address them until she got up the next day.   

None of that really mattered. It was just passing time comfortably.

'It feels a lot like when I was depressed in high school. There's a lot less eyeliner, though, so I have that going for me. That was way too much work. How did I even do that? Teenagers are amazing.'

But other nights were better.

It was a particularly cold night. Brianna fiddled with her shawl while she walked the route that had become a pattern. It was almost a ritual at this point to cross the abandoned Turkish pools, nod at the glow visible through the small windows of the cabins, and breathe night air at the foot of the staircase that led up to the deck. She didn't actually go out- they were up far too high. The unfiltered air would be thin. It was locked anyway. She could open it with a passcode, but someone would definitely ask questions about that in the morning.   

For some reason she leaned against the wall for at least ten minutes, wondering about going outside anyway. She missed fresh night air.

When she roused, Brianna began the meandering route that led through the areas she knew best – the evening guided tour areas. She felt her heartbeat pick up as her heeled boots ate up the wood, carpet, and tiles of each room.

The Lady had been there the last three nights, and she had a good feeling about today too.   

She smelled rose when the grandfather clock in the sitting room claimed it was 2:13am. Brianna ran a hand over the smooth, hot surface of her necklace's main stone and strode back to the ballroom. It would be inconsiderate to take too long at this point.   

The Lady was waiting. She lifted her already smiling face when Brianna brushed past the hanging curtains. She was as eager as Brianna was.

Because it was habit, Brianna walked onto the stage and sang. There was only one song that the Lady hadn't heard, since she'd been there so often. But she didn't seem to care that the other two pieces were repeats. She seemed to like the Latin piece, but didn't react to it much more or less than she did to Italian or German.

Brianna sat on the edge of the stage and contemplated that. “What language do you speak?” She asked. It wasn't exactly a question- more of a rumination. She knew there wouldn't be an answer. Other ghosts sometimes talked, but the Lady never did. It wasn't for lack of trying. Sometimes her lips would move and it seemed like Brianna might hear if she only just stopped breathing to focus, but there was never a whisper of sound.

The Lady looked puzzled by the question. She tilted her head slightly and made a graceful little motion with her hands, lifting up and out.   

Her heart sunk. Well. She hadn't really expected an answer, but maybe she'd hoped a little anyways.   

“I wish I knew what that meant.” Brianna crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her hands in her lap.  She had to remind herself not to lean too far forward. “Do you understand all the songs?”

Her companion smiled. It was ridiculously cute paired with the way she deliberately lifted her left hand into a thumbs-up.   

She could only assume that the Lady had picked up that body language by watching the living tourists, because it was incongruously modern.   

'I should probably explain nodding for yes instead,' Brianna thought a little guiltily. But the thumbs gesturing was so cute. And it didn't really matter, right? She didn't want to make her companion feel embarrassed by correcting a gesture that worked just fine.

“In your life, did you know English? French? Italian? German?” Brianna paused after each question, but the Lady just looked confused. Her lips parted slightly, her brow furrowed. Her features were becoming clearer every night, and by now it was easy to tell when she didn't understand something.

'Why would that be a hard question? Doesn't she remember?'

Brianna sighed and made a motion to wave the question away. “It's alright. It doesn't matter.”

She'd add it to the list, then. She couldn't get any answer about where the Lady had come from, why she'd been on a ship that she clearly disliked, what her name had been- absolutely nothing concrete about the past.

The Lady sat pin-straight, alarm flashing over her face. She blinked white for just a fraction of a second. When she was her usual friendly jewel-tone, she gave her hands an affronted look. Then she seemed to sniff, tossing her head imperiously.

“Ah.” Brianna sucked in a slow breath and let it out in a hiss through her teeth. Maybe it was better not to comment, but she didn't dare sit in silence too long. The Lady would leave. She cast about for a topic. “I haven't spoken to Miho since I last mentioned.” She cleared her throat. “The last two nights, she's been asleep before I get back. I'm not the most social person, but that wears on me a bit. It's a little lonely, you know.”   

She managed a wan smile and looked up to see that her companion's gaze was intent. Brianna faltered a moment, because she didn't know why that would be particularly compelling. “I, um.” She looked down. “I left her a note, though, and I expect that she'll have written back by the time I get to the room. We'll meet for a drink tomorrow night, I think.”

She felt like she was asking for approval when she checked the Lady's expression at that. Any reaction was suppressed, however. Maybe she didn't care either way.

Brianna swallowed. “Miho has this idea that we are all about to get fired.”

The Red Lady flinched back, eyes wide.

Brianna stopped short, torn from her self-pity.

'What'd I say? Did she misinterpret that? Or is she really that worried about me leaving?'

Her heart stuttered. “Fired, as in let go,” Brianna tried. She fidgeted and flexed her hands, and then purposefully relaxed them on top of her thighs. “Have our employment ended. It doesn't mean anything that bad, Red.”   

The ghost's features relaxed, mouth falling into a polite “o” shape. She nodded very slightly, relaxing.

'Good to know she won't lose any sleep if I don't come back.'

Brianna found that it was hard to look up anymore. She watched her shoes. “I don't really think that's going to happen. But I'm interested to see if Miho learned anything new. I don't know if I want to leave. No. I don't want to leave yet, and I definitely don't want to be forced out.” She shook her head. “I don't really want to be here, but I can't leave just now.”

Not if Imile was going to give her a long-term performance contract. She'd ride a damn unicycle if that was what it would take to get the ink dried. Protesting the annoyances could come later, once she had a secure position.

If Miho was wrong and it was secure, that was. If, if, if.

She swallowed down the years of doubt. There was no backup plan. Her career had to take off, or everything had been wasted.

Slim fingers ran over the top of her hand. Underneath the warm red glow, they were cool and tan with wide, shallow nailbeds. Brianna wanted to turn her palm up and lace their fingers together.

Wait. When did- Brianna blinked, only now noticing that the Lady's glow was closer and brighter in her peripheral. How fast was she? Had she moved instantly, or had Brianna dozed off for a moment there? She glanced up.

Red pulled her hand back. There was a furrow between her dark brows, and a tightness around her lips. She took a deep, silent breath, and then said something.

Brianna stared, as if she'd be able to read the words from the ghost's lips. They were so close together. She found herself shaking her head slightly. Why- oh, she didn't understand. She wished she did. It seemed important. Guilt curled into her stomach.

She didn't have to say it, the Lady knew she didn't understand. She pulled away in a rush of skirts and sparks.

Brianna stood. “Wait!” She hurried after, but the Lady was only crossing to the windows. She threw the curtains open and leaned to touch the glass with one palm. She turned her body to gesture at Brianna with the other one, as if to demand that she look out.

She glanced out. Around them, nothing much could be gleaned. The slightest hints of light could be seen from the cityscape below, but clouds blocked off most of the ambient light along with the stars.

“It's night,” Brianna tried. “It's a cloudy night? We're up high.”

The Red Lady gave her a look of pure frustration.

And was gone. The velvet curtains fell shut again, swinging heavily back and forth.

“I'm sorry!” Brianna spun in a circle. She was still alone. “I don't know what you mean. I don't see anything. It's too dark.”

She had the sneaking suspicion that she was a stupid ass.

Ugh. Brianna sulked back and sat in a pool of self-directed irritation for a while. There wasn't any good reason to stick around here anymore. There wasn't going to be any more company for the night. She should go to bed early and see if she could socialize during the lunch hour. Despite that reasoning, her ass remained planted on the edge of the stage.

It was hard to get up.

She ended up talking to herself to fight past the inertia. “It's not a bad time to go back to my room,” Brianna said. “It's kind of late. I don't live here.” Yes, that was it. The words were reasonable once they were hanging in the air. She stood. Good. She left, and felt a little bit proud that she'd managed to work around the ennui.

Sure, a more healthy person would have just gotten up without the prompting or wallowing, but a girl had to work with what she had. There wasn't much point in pretending she was the type of person who didn't talk to herself. She was resigned to it. She was a lunatic with an unfinished liberal arts degree, a crush on a ghost, and a slim chance at success in life. Whatever.

The note she'd left for Miho did have a response on it. Brianna's tilted pencil scrawl looked even sadder, somehow, when there were a few lines of neat black ink underneath. God. Of course Miho wrote in ink. Who even needed erasers after age 18.   

She brought it up nearly to her nose to squint at it in the low lighting. Apparently Miho was amenable to a late night the next day, provided that Brianna bought the first round. She didn't say anything about having learned something new, but she wouldn't have. Miho was cautious like that.

“Ah. Good.” She glanced at the lump of blanket where her roommate was sleeping. “I should respond, huh?”

The pencil had disappeared to wherever pencils go, but Miho had left her pen neatly on the side table with the note. Brianna bit at her lower lip and carefully, slowly wrote out a response that didn't look like it had been written by a drunk gorilla. She left it where Miho would see it in the morning before she went off to take a bath.

The lights flickered once while she was in the bath. She had the instant, glum premonition that they would stay off and she'd have to dress in the dark, but apparently the pessimism was pre-emptive. Pity. The darkness would have fit just how melodramatic she was feeling.   

...Maybe it was just melodrama. The Red Lady left her first every night. It didn't have to be that meaningful that she'd disappeared mid-conversation tonight at a point that had made Brianna feel like a bit of an ass. The timing probably hadn't been a total coincidence. But that didn't mean it was a big deal.

By the time Brianna made it into bed, she was wavering on whether she really was an embarrassing idiot, or if Red had been a little bit of a jerk.   

'Neither.' She pulled the pillow into exactly the right position between her arms and curled her legs up. 'She got frustrated because she can't communicate with me and left. That frustration makes sense, but I'm not at fault either. I wish it was easier to talk. I wish I knew more about her.'

Brianna waited in the comfortable position, but sleep didn't come. So she tapped her tongue up onto the roof of her mouth and tried a breathing exercise. In for 3 seconds, hold for 7, release for 8. And repeat, and repeat, until yawning made it impossible to hold the pattern. That was a little annoying but not for long.   

The next thing she knew was that damn sun intruding on her life, like the asshole it was. Fuck that guy. Seriously. Fuck him.

She lifted her head enough to give the window the dirtiest look she had in her arsenal, but it didn't do much. Ugh, fine. Brianna hauled her body up to sit-

“Did Miho leave those?” She found that it was easy to stand up when she needed to investigate a mystery. Huh. That was something she ought to remember for subsequent mornings.   

No one else had a key to the room, right? But it just didn't seem like Miho to steal a glass from the dining room and put three flowers in it. Roses, Brianna noted. They'd probably been pilfered from the vases out in reception, that was the only place she had seen fresh flowers in the ship. Someone had stolen the roses from the big bouquets in the reception hall. Amazing.

“Huh.” She reached out with the tip of a finger to adjust the position of the tallest rose to be a little more aesthetically pleasing. It didn't obey, but it was lovely. Brianna bit her lip and told herself that she was not smiling. “There's no way that Miho did this,” she said, her voice every bit as stern as her expression ought to be. “She would have put water in the glass. Ridiculous.” She was full-on smiling now. “Who puts roses in a water glass and doesn't even put water in it? Everyone knows to give the flowers sugar water if you want them to stay nice.”

She didn't know who she was acting for. Anyone who heard her would know she was grinning. Holy shit, Red gave her flowers?

She got ready for lunch, but it was hard not to glance at the offering again before she left the room. It was an idiotic theory. A ghost had not given her apology flowers. It was much more likely that Miho was a human being capable of complexity and had done one weird thing in her life. Or that someone a little less precise had brought Miho the flowers, actually, that was a possibility too. Ghosts should not be her first explanation for absolutely anything.   

It would have been nice to catch Miho at lunch and ask, but of course the other woman wasn't there. She did find a table with people she half-knew and enjoyed sitting in on Coco and Lola's conversation.  They'd already made arrangements to move on- apparently they were a package deal and were waiting out the end of a two-week notice on the ship. She wished them luck before the table cleared out, because god only knew if she'd be up before 1pm to see them in the next week and a half.

Brianna floated through her day. It was unusual for her to feel this good before the sun went down, so she capitalized on it by going to bother Brendan in the kitchen. She perched on the counter and let her legs dangle while he swooped about. He made a crack about her lack of travel history in between a monologue about something he'd eaten in Paris and the eminently special Burmese dish he was trying to get on the menu, and she didn't even bother to stick her tongue out at him for the slight.   

She did just so happen to get thirsty and noticed that the nice tumblers for guests were missing one friend. Hmm. So, you know, whoever had gathered those flowers had stolen a glass from the ghost ship, instead of the residential area. That probably meant nothing.

She was still feeling bright-eyed when she went to work. Imile actually commented on her good mood, which probably meant she was being obnoxiously happy. She felt like a bird, though, so she didn't really care.   

The day went on. Imile was pleased by the increased tonal quality of her highest notes and insisted on re-doing one of the earlier recording sessions.   

Miho was waiting when she got off. She'd been joking about the first round, apparently, because she was on her third hurricane. The alcohol had worked up a red flush high on Miho's round cheeks. She waved gaily and ordered Brianna a drink one to match when they made eye contact. She then spun twice on her barstool before Brianna had even made her way past the hostess stand.   

Brianna felt her eyebrows ride up. “You're cheery.” She showed her id to a tired waitress and took the open seat next to her friend. “Can I guess that means you have good news?”

Miho tilted her face up and gave a smug little expression through low lashes. “I have concluded that the situation is not so dire,” she admitted. “My employment will come to an end at a set date.”

Wait, what?

“Ah.” Her mouth dropped open. “That sounds like the problem,” Brianna said cautiously. “They told you, then?”

“Not quite.” Miho waved the idea away. “I've gotten a referral, from my current supervisor.” Cat-pleased, Miho looked at Brianna over her shoulder. It sort of looked like she was expecting someone to start snapping candids. “I did not wait to be replaced. They are quite understanding that I preferred a position near to my university. I think they run into this situation often.”   

“I'm glad that is working out for you, then,” Brianna said. She tried not to frown. “Does that mean you think this is a sinking ship, then?” She hated the sentence the instant it came out because wow, it sounded like a lame joke when it should have just sounded defeatist.

“Mmm.” Miho made a wavering palm motion. “Not really.” When she tilted her head, her dark hair made a cascading curtain. “I could have misunderstood what I was looking at. I don't know much about managing a business, and I didn't look at it for a long time. But it's also possible that the books are accounting for this kind of employee exodus- the high season is coming to an end. They know that a lot of workers will be leaving, because they won't have much need.” She dropped her voice and leaned in a bit for that, because the bar wasn't that loud.

'That makes some sense. Out of the new people who I know personally, one has already gone, three have arranged outside employment, and two of us have had management approach to subtly arrange extended positions here. Maybe that's what they expected to happen from the start.'

Brianna considered this. She drank a whole hurricane while she did so, and then moved on to a peach cocktail. “I think that's fine,” she decided. She flashed her roommate a smile. “I'm glad for you, then! What will you be doing?”

“Actually, I will be working on retainer for an immigration agency.” Miho's dark eyes were bright, even in the dim, shitty lighting of a bar. “I'm very pleased with it, it will complement my studies well. But enough about me. Will you be staying here?”

Surprisingly hard question. She put a hand in her hair and ran it through to buy time to think. For some reason it was necessary to twist the ends of her hair around her finger. She still wasn't supposed to talk about the current project. Was there any reason to risk breaking that promise to tell Miho? She kind of wanted to, but it wasn't worth it. “I'll be here for a while longer, at least,” Brianna said. She shrugged. “Who can say.”

“I see.” Miho pursed her lips and lifted her chin up in the way that meant she was about to dig her heels in or say something a bit too sharp. It didn't bode well.

'Did she realize that I left something out? I don't want to have to outright lie to her. I'm so bad at it. Friend, my bro, don't make me choose to lie or to risk my contract. I am a cog in the capitalist system and I need a job so bad.'

“The flowers,” Brianna got out hastily. She blinked a few times. “Those roses, from this morning.”

Miho's stare was blank and uncomprehending. Her chin went back down from the danger zone. “What roses?”

Ah. Well.   

'That's fairly conclusive. If they didn't come from or for Miho, then they came for me. And there's only one person who I've been remotely flirty with. I know roses are a cliché, but they're even her color. It had to be her who put them in my room.'

She felt herself smile. Brianna bothred to confirm it one last time. “Oh, you didn't notice them in the bedroom this morning?”

Miho shook her head, bemused. “I didn't see anything. Is there a problem?”

“No, no.” Brianna put her hands on her legs, underneath the table. Her legs were a welcome source of heat after holding onto iced drinks. “Someone gave me some flowers,” she said lightly. “I wondered if you thought they were nice.”

“Ohhh,” Miho said, slow and insinuating. Her lips curled up at the edges, exposing white but slightly crooked teeth. “That is nice. May I ask who?”

“A lady never tells,” Brianna said as primly as she could manage. Because hello, she did not need Miho to think that she was unstable. She was well-aware of how sad and desperate the truth would sound. “But I thought it was very cute. My caller didn't realize you're meant to put cut flowers in water.”

Miho snorted. “That is adorable,” she admitted. “The thought is very nice, I think.” Her eyes flicked up and over Brianna's shoulder. “It's a day for gifts, Miss Bri. I'll buy your next drink.” She put a hand up in signal to someone out of sight.

“Cheers to that.” She lifted her empty glass. On what seemed to be reflex, Miho swayed her drink to meet it with a clink.

They closed out the bar, which wasn't actually that impressive when the evening began at 2am. Miho had been a much more efficient drinker, so Brianna ended up settling the tab and helping her get home. Even drunk, Miho took the time to brush her teeth and wash her face before bed, although she did put toothpaste on her hand and try to lather it up on her first attempt.

Brianna endured all this with a surprisingly good attitude. The roses were still there, where she had left them. She took a moment to drink them in while Miho crawled into bed with way more rustling and muttering than was entirely necessary. Hmm... She moved the impromptu vase just a little bit to the left so that they were in the optimum placement to evade the eventual sunlight. Yeah, that looked good.

“Is this for me?” Miho's high pitch sounded concerned. Brianna glanced over.

Somehow, she wasn't that surprised to see a glass of red wine sitting on the table between their beds. Miho had leaned off of her mattress to put a single finger on the stem. She looked absolutely baffled.   

Her first impulse was to check for finger smudges in the condensation, but unfortunately the liquid was all room temperature. No marks to be seen.

“No, I think you've had enough.” She was gentle but firm when she pried the glass away from her roommate. Miho laid obligingly down when Brianna put a hand on her shoulder. “That's for me. I.... I  brought it back, don't you remember?”

Miho's eyes went wide. “No.” Her brows met in the middle of her face. “No.” Then she said something that was probably in Japanese, but Brianna didn't know enough to confirm or deny. Ah well. Didn't matter that much.

“Goodnight.” She gathered up the drink and switched off the light. “I'm going to go take a walk.”