Twice Two

Plane woke up late, thanks to a terrible hangover. She hadn’t felt this awful in a long time — both physically and emotionally. In her underwear it hurt unpleasantly — Plane scolded herself again for her carelessness. She had never drunk this much before, nor had she ever done anything so low. She picked up her phone from the nightstand and saw a bunch of notifications. The last one was a message from LaBelle asking her to delete their joint video because of threats from Nymphia’s fans. Plane didn’t care what consequences awaited LaBelle, but she herself didn’t want the video lingering on Instagram. She didn’t know it had already spread all over the internet, with angry girls on Twitter outraged at how cruelly she had treated Nymphia, as if they knew the details of their relationship. Besides that message, Plane saw several missed calls from Nymphia. She had called around the time the ill-fated video was posted. But apparently, she got tired of calling and went to sleep. Plane tossed the phone aside and exhaled loudly. Why had she done that yesterday? Did she really want to sleep with LaBelle? No, of course not — half an hour before LaBelle’s advances, Plane hadn’t paid her any attention. And what did she expect from Nymphia? That she would start regretting what she had said and immediately rush to London with apologies? But was it fair to put all the blame on her alone? Suddenly, Plane remembered LaBelle kneeling in front of her and felt an urge to wash away the memory of last night. Plane stood under the shower, her mind filled with Nymphia’s face — how she looked at her phone, debating whether to check what Plane had posted. Curiosity or concern for her friend won, and she touched the screen. She couldn’t take her eyes off Plane, who was staring into the camera, kissing the first person she came across. What was she feeling at that moment? She surely regretted deciding to look. After the shower, fully collected, Plane picked up her phone and deleted the video without replying to LaBelle. Nymphia was probably still asleep — she wasn’t an early riser. There were also a ton of messages from Mirage, but they all carried the same idea: how naughty Plane was for daring to do such a thing. The last message had come ten minutes ago, strongly resembling the previous ones: ‘Can’t even sleep it off, escort! What the hell are you thinking? Just try to show your face to me — you’re done for.’ Plane decided not to delay her punishment and called her. Mirage’s angry face immediately appeared on the screen. She was walking somewhere. ‘Well, finally!’ exclaimed Mirage, jumping straight into the point. ‘I thought I’d have to send you a hundred messages before you called!’ ‘I wouldn’t have gotten up because of your messages,’ Plane noted, ‘and wouldn’t have heard the calls either.’ ‘I knew you were drunk!’ Mirage cried. ‘Why else would you kiss the first slut you saw?’ Plane sighed, remembering how it all started. ‘So what?’ continued Mirage. ‘Feeling better? For complete happiness, you just needed a couple of minutes with some random person to show everyone how independent you are?’ God, Plane thought, they think that’s all it was. What will they think when they find out the truth? ‘No, a couple of minutes weren’t enough for complete happiness…’ Plane said ruefully. ‘So it lasted a bit longer.’ ‘I don’t understand,’ Mirage abruptly stopped, and Plane saw people behind her bump into her and curse. Mirage waved them off and continued, ‘Wait… that’s not all?’ ‘Not all. That was just the beginning,’ Plane confirmed, letting out a guilty sigh. ‘No way!’ Mirage yelled. ‘You slept with her? Fuck!’ She nearly choked on her outrage. ‘Why the hell are you telling me this?’ ‘If it makes you feel better, I barely remember anything.’ ‘It won’t make me feel better!’ Mirage continued hysterically. ‘What’s wrong with you? Only a few days have passed since your fight, and you already slept with someone!’ ‘Well, it happened by accident,’ Plane mumbled reluctantly. ‘By accident? How even? That slut forced you to take off your pants? That’s it. I don’t want your excuses. How are you planning to tell Nymphia?’ ‘I’m not sure she should know…’ Plane hesitated. ‘What do you mean ‘not sure’? Then why the hell did you tell me? How am I supposed to look her in the eye now? You know what, Plane — go away. I don’t want to meddle in your relationship anymore. I’m done! I’m not your fucking Cupid! Good thing I won’t be at the ‘Critics’ Choice’ — I don’t want to watch you pretend to be saintly in front of Nymphia!’ Plane barely got a word out before Mirage hung up. If she reacted like that, what would happen with Nymphia? No, this was definitely not a discussion for the phone. Besides, Plane didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry, but I got so angry I cheated on you’? Or: ‘I wanted to relax, got drunk, and made out with the first person I saw’? While Plane was pondering her next actions and words, the phone rang unexpectedly. To her surprise, Nymphia’s image appeared on the screen, and she felt an inexplicable fear. But she couldn’t miss the call and had to answer. ‘Hi, Nymphia,’ she began uncertainly. ‘Well, finally,’ Plane thought Nymphia sighed with relief. ‘I was starting to think you lost your phone while you were out.’ ‘No, I…’ Plane didn’t know how to respond, but Nymphia continued, ‘I see you’re having a good time there,’ her voice carried no anger or disappointment, only light irony. ‘You make friends so quickly. Now you’re finally happy?’ ‘Happy about what?’ Plane asked, confused. ‘Well, you really wanted to show the world your personal life. Your dream came true — now Twitter is up in arms. You’re the villain again, and your new friend is being torn apart. Where did you even find her? I’ve never seen her name before.’ ‘Listen, Nymphia, it happened by accident. I don’t know where she came from, but at the time, I was very upset that you hadn’t called me, and she wanted to take advantage of that…’ ‘Alright, that’s obvious,’ Nymphia sighed. ‘I didn’t call to ask for details — I already saw everything.’ Plane’s heart clenched. ‘I just wanted to remind you I exist and make you feel a little guilty, so you don’t act up again. You haven’t forgotten that the ‘Critics’ Choice’ is in a few days, right?’ ‘No,’ Plane whispered. ‘Good. When you finish work, come home. I found your magnificent outfit — I think it’s the one you prepared for the ceremony. Just don’t embarrass yourself with silly videos online — I don’t want your reputation to reflect on me.’ ‘I promise,’ Plane said sadly. ‘I love you,’ she added quietly. ‘I believe you,’ Nymphia replied and hung up.  

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Nymphia really wasn’t angry, at least now, five days after the ridiculous incident. During Plane’s performances, of course, she didn’t think about it — she was completely absorbed in the admiring, hungry gazes of the crowd. But after each performance, reality returned, and she remembered the vile things she had done and continued to do. How could she talk so openly with Nymphia on the phone, looking her in the eyes, when Nymphia didn’t know the whole truth? Every time Plane received a message from her, she recalled that terrible evening, and her replies became increasingly dry. Nymphia met her at the doorstep, arms crossed. Seeing Plane, she couldn’t contain a happy smile and opened her arms, expecting her to run and hug her. But Plane didn’t run — she approached with a sad, seemingly guilty smile and embraced her. ‘Planey, did you miss me?’ Nymphia asked affectionately, pressing closer to her neck. ‘Of course, baby,’ Plane answered sincerely. She thought she would want to sink through the floor seeing Nymphia, but feeling the familiar embrace, she felt extraordinary happiness and mentally traveled back to the day Nymphia first hugged her. ‘Come on, tell me — how did it go?’ Plane heard Nymphia’s voice and froze. ‘Performances? How much tips did you get?’ She was twirling in front of the mirror, trying on jewelry. ‘Nothing special. Same as usual,’ Plane lowered her eyes, trying to hide her fear. She couldn’t confess now while Nymphia was so happy — what would become of their trip? Plane decided to postpone the conversation again. ‘Good. Tomorrow will be amazing. They’ll show us on TV alongside actors and creators of popular movies and series. Could you have imagined this?’ ‘Baby, actually yes. I was planning to win, in case you forgot,’ Plane reverted to the persona she had created for filming. She loved to scan her rivals with haughty looks, sensing their fear from a mile away. Perhaps she would have maintained this confidence until the finale if Nymphia hadn’t brought her back to reality. ‘What’s this ridiculous nest?’ Nymphia raised Plane’s new wig in bewilderment. ‘Where did you dig this up? From the trash?’ ‘You don’t understand,’ Plane took the wig from her. ‘Ordered it from Atlas. You don’t like me overshadowing you all the time. In this monstrosity, I definitely won’t outshine you.’ Nymphia didn’t know if Plane was serious or joking. Yes, the wig was ugly. But that’s exactly what would catch the viewers’ attention, while Nymphia would appear as usual, all in yellow and flawlessly beautiful. And who would be surprised? Nymphia got angry at herself — why not come up with something extravagant instead of lecturing Plane to dress simpler? After all, she was a seamstress. ‘We have to get up early tomorrow. Let’s sleep already,’ Nymphia waved at Plane, already lying in bed. All their things were packed. Plane worried she might forget something, but fatigue took over, and she collapsed on the bed, pressing against Nymphia’s back. ‘You know what I decided, Plane?’ Nymphia said. Plane stared tensely at the back of her head. ‘During our trip, you can be a little flirty in front of the cameras. I mean, with us. I thought it would be unfair if everyone saw you with that… cunt, and it was like I didn’t exist in your life at all.’ Plane tried to ignore the word ‘cunt’ and focused on Nymphia’s unexpected decision. ‘And how far can I go?’ she asked professionally. ‘Well, within limits, of course,’ Nymphia replied. ‘I’m still a virtuous girl.’ ‘Alright,’ Plane smirked. ‘I’ll think about your offer.’ She pressed closer to Nymphia and was suddenly struck by a memory.  

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She had lain in Nymphia’s bed, burying her nose in the pillow while Nymphia spoke with the assistant, imagining Nymphia lying next to her, watching her. But when Nymphia suddenly appeared beside her, she startled her. Returning from the bathroom, Plane saw Nymphia greedily eating pizza, wiping her mouth with her fist, and admired her. She was so spontaneous and open. Nymphia could ask any question on her mind, and Plane often feared blurting something out, revealing a more human side of herself. Plane joined her and just bit into a slice of pizza when she heard a question she didn’t expect, ‘So, what about sex?’ The first thing Plane thought of was the realistic dream she had seen in the morning, which she suddenly wanted to tell Nymphia about. The memory of the strange dream brought a new image before Plane’s eyes — Nymphia lying naked on the bed, beckoning her with a finger. Plane approached, and Nymphia turned, presenting her butt. The erotic fantasy vanished, replaced by Nymphia chewing pizza, waiting for an answer. ‘What?’ Plane spat out. She realized it was a real question, not words spoken in her vivid fantasy. She felt a piece of pizza drop from her mouth onto her favorite reindeer shirt. Nymphia lightly smiled at Plane’s reaction and explained, ‘You said you never slept with your colleagues,’ and her gaze moved down. ‘By the way, you got your shirt dirty.’ Plane watched in fascination as Nymphia spat on her finger and rubbed it over the shirt. Emotions surged through her, and she brushed away the persistent finger. ‘Baby, that never happened…’ she said professionally, trying not to reveal regret.

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‘It never happened…’ Plane repeated to herself. It had happened — and, unfortunately, not with just one person. Plane lay motionless, pressed against Nymphia, feeling the love in her arms. Before her eyes flashed the dark restroom and LaBelle’s smirking face. Her wig, which Plane had clenched in her fist, was thrown aside. And the way she, unwilling to see LaBelle’s smug face, had turned it toward the wall. The way LaBelle started squealing in anticipation, while Plane only thought about how to succeed in pushing Nymphia out of her mind for at least a while. And how she never managed to do that. Now, burying her nose in Nymphia’s neck, Plane couldn’t understand how she could ever feel like that. Nymphia could not be erased from her mind or her life. She had always been there and would always be there, even if Plane had to pay for her actions and leave her forever.