Star had the most bizarre, disoriented dreams. Jungles, rifles, basements, Hawaii, and Vincent all swirled into an exhausting sleep.
The blinding sun spilled across his face. Star reached up to shade his eyes and instinctively reached to his side. There was nothing there. The bed was cold, leaving behind only a faint, woody scent. Star rubbed his forehead and sat up.
Vincent was gone. So early? Vincent usually left after eight, and it was not even seven yet. Perhaps he had urgent business.
Star did not think much of it. He checked the house, and once he was sure Vincent had truly left, he removed his contact lenses, washed off his makeup, and applied a face mask. Semi-permanent cosmetics could cause pigmentation if left on too long, so he made sure to remove his makeup and treat his skin whenever he had the chance. He had bought plenty of skincare products the day before, so he nibbled on fruit while watching a drama, applying his mask all the while.
Time passed quickly, and before he knew it, it was evening. Star hurriedly applied his makeup, put in his lenses, and waited for Vincent to return. As midnight approached, Vincent still had not returned.
Star翻 (flipped) through his phone; there were no messages. Aside from the first three days when he was away, Vincent had come home every single night, no matter how late, even flying in by private jet just to be there. And if he were ever going to be late, he would always send a message. But tonight, there was nothing.
Star was baffled. They had been in the throes of passion just the day before; why was there not even a text today? Had he vomited on him yesterday? Had he done something wrong? Surely not.
Unable to figure it out, Star stopped thinking about it. He turned his phone volume to the maximum, removed his lenses, and went to sleep. As it turned out, the phone did not ring all night. Not only that night, but for the next seven days, it remained silent. His message history ended seven days ago with Vincent asking where he was; there had been nothing since.
Star began packing. Vincent had clearly grown bored of him. The next time they met would likely be to tell him to move out. This man was truly fickle. Not long ago, he had been so attentive, searching for doctors for his mother and encouraging him to go to school, and now he had vanished without a trace, not even a single text. Perhaps he had met someone else, or perhaps he had simply had his fill. Whatever the case, he had already gained what he needed; if it was over, so be it.
Star did not have many belongings. He owned mostly high quality replicas, as he had sold off the genuine items long ago. Aside from those and his cosmetics, there was nothing else; two suitcases were more than enough. He left the Ferrari key by the door, put on gloves, and began scrubbing away any traces of his presence, paying special attention to the bathroom drains. When he finished, he sat on the sofa, not daring to walk around or touch anything else. He just slept on the sofa and waited.
Finally, on the eighth day, his phone buzzed. Moments later, the door opened. It was Vincent, but he looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, as if he had not rested in a long time.
Star hurried toward him. They met in the middle of the living room, neither knowing what to say.
“I will…”
“Why did you not send a message?”
Star did not expect the question. He hesitated, lowering his head. “I know my place.”
The young man before him looked so thin and frail that a gust of wind could blow him away, standing with his head down as if he had committed a crime. Eight days of total silence, yet not a single word of complaint. He was so sensible, it made one’s heart ache.
Vincent pulled him into his arms, his eyes gradually reddening. “I am sorry.”
Star felt his breath hitch as Vincent squeezed him. “You do not need to apologize. You did nothing wrong.”
“Do not be afraid.”
“I…” Star was not afraid.
Vincent noticed the suitcase in the corner and the key by the door. “You… do you want to leave?” Vincent released him and lifted his chin, looking earnestly into his eyes, searching for a trace of a lie.
Star felt uncomfortable under his gaze, his eyes darting away. “I am not trying to leave, I just thought you would make me leave.”
Vincent’s heart felt like it was being tightly gripped, both sour and painful. In that moment, he understood. Whether for the sake of this body or something else, he did not want Star to leave. The past eleven years had proven everything; he was destined never to have a normal romance or relationship. Since Cipher met all his standards, what did it matter what status he held?
Vincent picked him up and pulled him into a kiss. This kiss was gentler than anything he had experienced before; Star actually found himself enjoying the act of kissing. It turned out kisses could be both passionate and tender.
Star began to undo his buttons, but his hand was gripped.
“We are not doing this today, and you are not allowed to leave.”
“Huh?” Star looked up, bewildered, seeing the sincerity in those gentle, amber eyes.
“Cipher, do not leave. Wait for me to come back.”
Vincent left with only those words. Star was completely baffled. What was he doing? Still, staying was not a bad idea. It would take some time for Diego to get him a new identity, and if he went out now, he would have to rely on his meager savings. He had already saved enough for three years of Star Ning’s tuition, and he did not want to touch that money. Since he could stay with Vincent, he would.
From that day on, Vincent sent him messages every day, mostly asking what he had eaten or what he had done, but he never returned. Star wanted to ask what Vincent was doing, but felt he was in no position to do so. He simply reported his daily routine, occasionally ordering little gadgets online to keep his benefactor happy.
With the Chinese New Year approaching and Vincent having been gone for nearly a month, Star grew increasingly lax. He stopped wearing makeup, assuming Vincent would not return until after the New Year. The next morning, his phone alerted him: Vincent had entered the building.
Star jumped off the sofa in shock and sprinted to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. If Vincent saw a blonde, blue eyed man in his home, he would probably call the police.
The electronic lock on the front door beeped. Star had just finished applying hair dye. Footsteps drew closer. Star cranked the volume on his music and turned on the shower to the maximum setting. The footsteps outside stopped and then receded. Star did not even have time to catch his breath; he hurriedly began to apply his makeup. This type of cosmetic needed time to set on the skin, or it would run off with sweat or movement. Since they had been apart for so long, an intense round of intimacy was inevitable; he could not afford to be sloppy.
Vincent waited in the living room for a long time, but no one came out. He walked over and knocked on the door.
“Cipher…”
The door opened. Star was drying his hair, saying in surprise, “Sir, you are back!”
Seeing that familiar face and familiar smile, the void in Vincent’s heart seemed to fill. “I am back.”
Star happily threw himself into his arms. “You are finally back. I missed you so much.”
“I also missed you.”
They went to the living room. Star noticed a boarding sticker hanging on his suitcase, mostly written in Pinyin. Vincent went to China? It was almost the New Year; why would he come back now?
Vincent drew his attention back. “Cipher, come home with me.”
Star was stunned. “You, uh…” It took him a long time to organize his thoughts. “When?”
“For the New Year.”
Vincent’s tone was calm, as if he were discussing the weather. Star, however, felt a storm raging in his mind. Everyone knew what it meant to bring someone home for the New Year. Vincent certainly understood it even better. What is he doing?
“I…” The words felt like stones stuck in Star’s throat; speaking was a struggle. Vincent was being pressured into marriage and just bringing someone back as a shield? Yes, that must be it. That had to be it. Vincent looked young, but he had to be at least thirty. Bringing a partner home was a classic move to stop parents from pestering them. That had to be it.
Vincent saw his eyes fixed and waved a hand in front of him. “What is wrong?”
Star regained his focus and forced a smile. “Sure, of course.”
Vincent smiled gently and pulled a box from his trouser pocket. Star looked at the box, and alarm bells went off in his mind. This size, this shape.
The box opened, and a square black diamond ring sparked under the small spotlight of the box, dazzling to the eye. Star stopped breathing.
“Cipher, marry me.”
Star watched as he got down on one knee, took his hand, and looked into his eyes with that gentle gaze. “Cipher, our beginning was not pure, but I want you now. I want you by my side. Entrust your remaining years to me. I will be a qualified husband and your pillar of support. I will lift you up and help you achieve your goals.”
Vincent was tall and imposing; even on one knee, he did not look weakened in the slightest. Star lost his voice, trying to swallow, but even that movement felt difficult. He could no longer find excuses; Vincent was serious. Extremely serious.
“You…” Star asked a question Vincent did not expect. “What have you been doing all this time?”
Vincent held his hand. “I went to persuade my parents. I am taking you home.”
Boom.
Now it was Star’s reason that collapsed. This man had actually gone to such lengths for him; he had found him a school, found a doctor for his mother, and fought against his own family for him. Could he really do this? Could he have a stable environment, a stable home? If this man was here, maybe it was not impossible. Right?
Star noticed the short stubble on his face and his slightly haggard appearance. His hand trembled as he reached out to stroke Vincent’s cheek.
“You are truly a fool. I am not worthy.”
“You are.” Vincent gripped his hand, rubbing it gently against his cheek, repeating, “You are.”
Warm tears slid down his face. Star did not need to blink for the tears to stream down. Vincent gently wiped them away. “So, what is your answer?”
Star could no longer see clearly. He just rasped in a breathy voice, “Okay.”
A cold ring slid onto his ring finger. The square black diamond made his hand look even more slender. He stared blankly at the ring. Let it be. I will just keep acting. I will act for a lifetime.
“Serial killer Alistair Thorne, the twentieth victim’s remains were recently found in Texas.”
The voice from the TV pulled Star back to reality. He looked blankly at the screen until Vincent turned it off.
“What is wrong?”
Star regained his focus, his thumb gently stroking the ring. “Nothing.”
What had he just done? He accepted Vincent’s proposal? And he even wanted to deceive Vincent for a lifetime? Vincent was a good man; he did not deserve to be treated this way. Besides, Vincent loved Cipher, not him. He was not Cipher, he was not even Star. His name was Thorne.