When Milan retreated that time, Esperanza felt how every hope in her body vanished. She just kept her head above the murky and muddy water that weight her down. Then again, when she looked up once more as if calling for help one last time, she saw Milan jump down.
No, he fell off the cliff. However, instead of falling straight down, he spun down like an unrolled fabric. Then, he stopped falling by assuming a strange stance of holding the rope and using his other leg to clip the bottom end of the rope. He then got to an upright position and unclipped the rope before using the same leg to kick the cliff and swing toward her.
It took him three times to get close enough. He then reached out a hand. “Crazy bitch! What are you doing out here? Grab onto me just like the last time!”
“What are you?” Esperanza cried, but she did her best to reach him. She managed to grab onto him and climb up to hug him like she was a black bear on a tree.
“Hold on to me tighter because your life is really going to depend on it.” Milan couldn’t hold her in place because he needed his arms and legs to climb up the rope without slipping.
Halfway, he felt like the rope was being pulled up from the top. He looked up and saw Corbin shining a light at the rope overhead Milan instead. Owen found where Milan was through the open light he left on the ground. The rest had also heard the screams coming from Esperanza and Milan. Around four men had to pull up the rope to get them up.
Esperanza continued to cry even after being in the arms of her old brother. She continued to cry until she passed out from exhaustion and the cold.
On the other side, Milan was also very exhausted from the bursts of energy and the pain of treating the rough rope as his aerial silks. The squeeze and strain were the worse, but his adrenaline kept his body indestructible. Now that everything was over, he was nothing but spent.
“Milan,” Owen called his name, and the tall man volunteered to carry Milan on his back. However, the young man didn’t take the offer. He would rather walk on his own and be supported by Owen’s arm around his waist. In a cold hell like this, the most he needed was body heat.
…
The sun was ushered in, and everyone who helped in the search and rescue received a sum from the Cliffords. It didn’t help that Milan saved their daughter again. The only saving grace was that Milan didn’t show up in the appreciation meeting. Corbin claimed his reward for him.
As for the young man, he was still in bed. He hissed at the rashes given by the rough rope to his torso, legs, foot, and palms. The rain made the friction worse. Milan was also sickly for being under the cold rain with just one or two layers of clothing for two consecutive nights. Not to mention he worked hard and passed out harder the day before.
Milan only sighed at his state. “I won’t hear the end of this from Mr. Chrome when I return.”
“Who’s Mr. Chrome?” Florence asked as soon as she walked close to Milan’s bed. The brother turned to her, and her lifeless eyes stared at him. “Why will he scold you?”
“Because I started neglecting myself.” He showed her the bandaged hands that Corey patched up when he got home last night. “My palms are always used in my job, so if they were no good, I can’t do a full three-hour show. Our patrons hated him for cutting my time, regardless of my state. It’s not like we can tell them I’m hurt, anyway.”
Florence tilted her head and set the tray down on his nightstand. “Three-hour shows? Are you… a pianist, Milan? I didn’t know you can play an instrument.”
Milan froze at the matter before chuckling. His eyes darted at the soup and moved to a sit so he could eat. “Uhm, I’m not a pianist. I’m a performer.”
He then almost choked out when he gasped. Milan cleared his lips from the drops of soup and flashed a smile. “When we get home, I will ask Mama to take you to one of my shows. There’s a lot of colorful light; minutes and minutes of beautiful, moving music; and a super-enthusiastic crowd that bursts in whistles and gasps at every highlight!”
“That really sounds exciting.” Florence’s eyes flickered, however. She then pulled on her lips to smile. “Milan, I was wondering… are you popular on the mainland?”
“Only to our patrons. I don’t show up on TV.” Milan hummed and ate the soup as gently as it was fast. He was starving, and he had been in bed for the first few hours of the day.
Florence only nodded. She then looked down at her clothes. “Won’t I… look terrible around you? I don’t wear expensive dresses like everyone on the mainland.”
Milan scarfed down the soup’s last few spoonfuls. He then giggled. “I would say you won’t, but I have a feeling I will buy you everything you want the moment we get home. Don’t worry about not fitting in with your current clothes. Mama will make sure you can stand next to me.”
“…stand next to you…” Florence stared at the brother who was now eating the bread served with the soup. She wondered what kind of life Milan was living outside the island. Her hands then balled loosely as if she could get courage from it.
“Milan, I heard you’re getting a lot of money from Mr. Clifford. Don’t you think it’s better to stay here n Lasair where you can…?” Florence turned to the two brown envelopes on the nightstand. “That’s more than 100,000 in just two days…”
The brother finished the bread, laughing as he chewed. He shook his head. “My average show pays me as much, and I can even do it at most three times a week. Also, I once worked at this cruiser and earned a million for just a five-day trip. Next year, I’ll see if Mr. Chrome can get me on it again.”
Florence looked up at her brother, and Milan forgot to meet her gaze. He was more interested in picking up another slice of bread. The sister pursed her lips. “Milan, are you… dancing naked? How can you get paid that big? What are you doing?”
“Dancing naked? No, no, I’d never.” Milan only laughed, his awkward tone a clue to his developing dilemma. He probably shouldn’t discuss his job before he could bring Florence to his house on the mainland. “I know it’s shocking, but it’s just one of my rewards. It wasn’t easy to get there.
“Let’s stop talking about it. I want to have more stories for you when we ride the bus back to the airport and the plane to where I live now.” With a decisive smile, Milan closed their conversation. He then caressed Florence’s head, whispering words she didn’t catch.