My Mistake ⌲ River Phoenix

12; instead of a torch

Today was New Year's Eve - and Olivier and I had plans. Rio wanted to come too, but had to leave for a flight back home at around 1 am. All together, we had walked down from the apartment.

Rio slowly intertwined his fingers with mine in an effort to subdue my cynicism - but there was no use. I had no reason to be out other than because Olivier wanted to. I wanted to spend some alone time with Rio before he had to go back home.

At LOUIE LOUIE'S downstairs we stopped for a quick bite. JoJo was our waiter, and I introduced Rio and Olivier to her.

"You guys going down to Champs-Élysées tonight?" She asked in the midst of serving our large cheese pizza. We all nodded.

"Unfortunately," I muttered to myself.

"My thoughts exactly," Jo remarked, subsequently letting out a loud chuckle.

"Why don't you come with?" Olivier suggested, obviously not realizing that parties are not everyones cup of tea. Jo shook her head.

"I couldn't, it's New Year's Eve and it's just me in the restaurant tonight."

"It looks pretty dead tonight, I'm sure no one will notice you're gone for a few hours," Rio insisted and I agreed. It would be nice to have her around. She reluctantly glanced around the restaurant noticing it was practically empty.

"Well, I can't say no to River Phoenix, can I?" She joked and I watched Rio's face go sad. It was evident he never wanted his fame to influence people and their decisions. "Give me some time to change and I can meet you guys down there."

After we finished scarfing down the pizza, we headed downtown. It was only about a 20 minute train ride considering that I lived on the west side of Paris.

The streets were packed to the rim and I felt myself go tense. I looked up at Rio who had noticed my arms crossed and proceeded to wrap his heavy winter jacket around me. I wasn't cold but I liked the fact that he did it. I noticed that there was a marathon going on with fire crackers. Why would they use that instead of a torch?

Jo had caught up with us. She wore her hair down and clipped some big hoop earrings on.

"Has anyone told you, you look just like George Michael?" Jo asked Olivier as he straightened his suit and tie. He just laughed.

"Of course! That man is what you say - magnifique!" He replied as we all laughed. "Merci pour ça!"

Olivier was attractive. He had tan skin with green eyes. He was so good to me - so kind. He deserves a love to call his own.

"Any guys on your radar?" I asked Jo as she fiddled around in her purse.

"Honey, it's complicated. His name is Bill. We almost got married, you know," she spoke as she popped a piece of gum in her mouth. Rio and I exchanged glances.

"Why not?" Rio asked.

"Because, I don't know. I want all that but not right now." We all nodded as she explained. She was pretty young after all, and I know for myself I don't see any marriage plans in the future... It's definitely a societal construct of some sort to get married so young - it has to be.

It was a windy night tonight - one full of people drinking cherry merlot - glasses clinking against each other in the midst of pointless conversation. Rio looked at me with a sullen, sad gloom in his once bright and beaming eyes.

"Let's go to the Louvre, just me and you. We can take the train there," Rio suddenly insisted as he watched my eyes travel up to his.

"I wouldn't want to just leave Jo and Olivier here," I said but before we knew it, they had detached themselves from us and ran into the crowd. It surprised me that Jo decided to join the party - but, I guess Oliver's undeniable charm had a big role in changing her mind. Sometimes I envied people who actually found joy in parading around in large groups of people.

"You're coming with me, my lady, Amoreena," Rio sang as he intertwined his fingers with mine.

I didn't know it then, but at that moment we had embarked on an adventure like no other. He brought the joy out of my once colorless world. We ran through the night like our lives depended on it. The feeling of the wind blowing through my hair, and me looking over to my right knowing I had finally had someone to start my life with.

The Louvre was empty at this time at night - but I guess it had left it's doors open for those hoping to appreciate some art on New Year's Eve.

We continued walking down the imposing corridors - ones filled to the brim with Rococo-French architecture that made you feel like you were practically dancing on the clouds. And, I guess I was.

We soon found ourselves face to face with the painting of Mona Lisa. A beautiful painting. One that insights true beauty. It was a level of magical art I yearned to achieve.

"This is my home," I mumbled, just barely enough for Rio to hear. "It's a funny word isn't it? Something so well known to anyone and still so utterly different in its subjective definition." Rio shot me a curious glance.

"What does it mean to you?" He asked me as we both turned our stares back to the intricate painting. I did not say a word for several seconds.

My pursed lips parted slowly as I spoke, "I don't know, what about you?" But my eyes gave away what I chose not to speak out loud: that my home was a life full of the unknown - in a city where every decision is at my own demise.

Unlike my sister, Carmen, I found truth in new beginnings - I wasn't afraid of them. They were but the start of something magical. If I traveled for the rest of my life on my own - I would have achieved the deepest feeling of content for this cruel world. My home was constantly on the road, painting in a different apartment each night constantly under an ever-changing sky.

"Well, I... undeniably, undoubtedly, had found home in the wrinkles when you laughed," he said with a nervous chuckle, "and that color when you blushed." I slowly moved my glossy eyes up at his, watching as he combed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Rio," I spoke as he gently pushed me into him - closing the gap between us and bringing my trembling lips against his. He parted our lips with a cheeky smile - one where he couldn't even bear to maintain eye contact.

"Amoreena, I can't stop thinking about you. The thought of you is in the words I speak... the air I breathe - I love you," he spoke gently and I suddenly felt lightheaded. My parents never told me that, my sister doesn't either - we just kind of show it... I felt overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Rio watched me practically turn purple.

"Oh! I... uh," I stuttered, watching as his green eyes quickly narrowed at mine. He soon looked down at the floor. He looked completely and utterly defeated. I stood there watching his every move - fixated on the contours of his body and how it practically transformed from a happy friendly demeanor to one like a self-destructive black hole - sucking out all love and life that had once remained.

"I see," he spoke slowly. I glanced up at the clock and watched as it was 2 minutes before twelve. He began to turn his back to me, starting to walk away - but this time without his hand in mine. "Maybe if you were a little less Holden Caufield and a little more Amoreena Webb... maybe we could've been salvaged..."

"Don't say that..." I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper. He began trudging away. I stood and watched as his silhouette faded into the darkness of the outside of the Louvre. I slumped onto the bench adjacent to the painting we once looked at together.

I knew I couldn't beg him to stay. Nobody in my life stays. This is why I couldn't let him get close to me. I knew I could never be who he wanted me to be.

And in this once pastel-colored idyll, I watched the clock hit twelve. Instead of a New Year's kiss, I got a New Year's goodbye.