Summary: Natasha and Hayden have another date at the opera and their night turns out to more emotional than she imagined.
Based on the prompt: Choices August Challenge Day Three – Opera
Hayden fishes out his phone to distract himself while he waits for Natasha. He doesn’t mind that she takes her time to get ready, but when he realized they were going to be late for the opera, he decided to simply take a deep breath, sit back on the couch and play a game instead of picking up a fight. All he wants is a pleasant night with his girlfriend.
Soon Natasha’s perfume fills the air with its spicy and floral tones. He turns around to look at her, she walks into the living room wearing a rose gold maxi dress with nude-colored heels and putting her earrings on. All pieces of her outfit match with his mahogany and black tuxedo. He stands up in awe.
“I’m so sorry I made you wait, babe,” she leans in to give him a quick kiss. “I had a little wardrobe malfunction and it took me a while to fix it, but we’re ready to go. Our uber is waiting outside.”
“Oh… Okay then,” he composes himself. “We should go.”
As they leave the apartment, he calls the elevator while Natasha locks the door, but he isn’t really paying attention to the panel. He can’t take his eye off her. The elevator pings startling him, he offers his arm to her and they get in.
“Are you okay, Hayden?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You seem a little distracted.”
He smiles fondly. “I am. I’m just admiring my beautiful date.”
“Thank you. But just so you know, I’m not relying on being pretty tonight. I did my homework.”
“Did you?” A broad smile spreads across his face.
“Yup. I read everything I could find about Madama Butterfly so we can comment about it all night.”
“Really?” He smirks.
“Try me,” she wiggles her eyebrows and grins.
…
Tears stream down Natasha’s face as the curtains of the main stage close, marking the end of Act Two. When the lights turn on inside their private box, Hayden fishes a silk handkerchief from his pocket, gives it to her. But before he could say something to comfort her, she sits on his lap and buries her face on the crook of his neck.
“Ugh… This story sucks,” Natasha grumbles.
“Why?”
“Because he’s a jerk! He promised to go back to her, but he married someone else. Now he’s back and she’s there, so hopeful, so happy. She’s waiting for him like a fool.”
“He is a pretty awful person, but it’s not like she doesn’t know it. She chose to believe he wouldn’t cheat because she’s in love. Love can make us look like complete fools.”
“I know!” She whines. “And you know what’s worse? I know how the story ends because I read and watched it online and I kinda wish we were all wrong and she was right. I wish he really was a good man, not another white trash.”
He chortles, tightening the embrace.
“What? You know it’s true,” Natasha grouches.
“Yes, I do know that. I’m just wondering about the researches you did about this opera.”
“If you mean the critiques about how Puccini wrote an inconsistent and racist opera and said ‘hey, here’s my stereotyped version of what Japanese culture is. Also, romance is overrated’, yeah. I’ve got some really terrible impression about it and male roles in it,” she scowls.
He laughs. “You’ve really taken Cio-Cio-san’s side.”
“Well, didn’t you?”
Hayden grins. “I do. I think you should that the director of this particular version affirmed she’d give a new approach to this performance to make it more believable and less controversial. But that’s the beauty of operas. Even when the story is outdated and all kinds of wrong, it still affects us. We still cheer for Cio-Cio-san to be right because the love scene was so compelling and it makes us wish for them to be together until Pinkerton finally arrives and ruins everything. If it was a movie or a play, you’d probably have ranted about it without shedding a single tear. But you’re crying. This is how powerful and dramatic an opera can be.”
“I guess watching a live performance in which the actors are so talented and express the characters feelings so beautifully does make a difference,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder
“It certainly does to me. Otherwise, I’d never watch an opera written by a guy who probably didn’t go to Japan more than once and didn’t care enough to research about Japanese culture and geishas before composing the libretto,” he adds.
“Now I understand why you love operas so much. I was trying to impress you with all my research about Madama Butterfly, but in the middle of Act One, I forgot everything. I could only think about throwing my shoes at the Bonze when he tried to ruin the wedding,” Natasha frowns.
“Yeah, I got it when you mentioned you wouldn’t rely on being pretty. And by the way, I never thought you did. You’re beautiful, smart, passionate, kind and we’ve learned so much with each other. But hey, I’m glad you read about it. Now I have an opera buddy,” he beams.
“Aww…” She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. “But next time, I’ll choose which one we’ll watch.”
“Sounds great to me,” he grins.
They gaze into each other’s eyes and share sweet kisses before the theatre lights dim, signaling the end of intermission. She returns to take her seat by his side and places his handkerchief on her lap, just in case she needs it again.
“Okay, are you ready for Act Three?”
She grimaces. “I’m so not.”
