A Breach In Berlin

Four - Vier - A Hairs Breadth From Hindenburg

6:25pm December 13th 2014, Berlin

Tonight, Mother Vermont was taking us to the opera. I was trying to get ready, perched on the stool in front of the mirror on the dresser, slowly drawing the eyeliner brush along my eyelid into a wing. Jared was on the phone. I was biting my tongue how the holiday before our wedding was turning out to be like any other holiday we've had. Jared could last two days without answering his phone or looking at his work email. But some stupid employee would forget he was on holiday and ring him. Suddenly, like a snap of the fingers, the laptop would be open, everyone was on speed dial and I could only force Jared to escape to do something for a few hours.

His phone seemed to be surgically attached to his hand and ear, like a teenage girl. But, of course he wasn't, I mean, his bicep flexed every time he lifted his phone to his ear or typed something on his laptop, his sleeves pulled up above his elbows. It that wasn't enough to make a girl swoon.

I wont lie and say I don't spend a lot of time on my phone because, I do. I could look through feeds and feeds of social media for hours and forget about everyone else. But, unlike Jared, I was capable of throwing my phone in a draw and taking myself away to read, or watch a movie in peace. There was a reason we had a cute little window seat in our house back home, and the reason was for my cinematic reading moments when I'd cuddle up with a hot cup of tea and a blanket and submerge myself in a love story I longed to live.

One thing the fiancée had done right for tonight was buy me a new dress. It was a beautiful red silk masterpiece that had a neckline that hugged the side of my shoulders, exposing all of my shoulders, and fell in a classy fifties swing skirt halfway down my calves. Add some jewellery and heels and I felt like Marilyn Monroe. I think it was the hair, Mother Vermont had spent hours styling and curling it, to then dump a can of hairspray on it. I lined and covered my lips with a red lipstick, only a slight shade darker than my dress. I slipped my fur-lined poncho great Grandma Vermont had given me years and years ago round my bare shoulders and slipped down to the lobby.

The Opera in Berlin was apparently always a must see, they were known for unusual and unique ways of presenting a story and writing unique (weird would be the word I'd use) songs to accompany it. Tonight, they were showing an adaptation of the Hunch Back of Notre Dame. Was Walt Disney okay with this? I could only think an opera would ruin it, but you shouldn't knock something before you try it, I guess.

The opera had duration of three hours with a half an hour interval halfway. It started at seven o'clock and therefore, expecting a prompt and punctual start, it would finish at half ten. It took Forty-five minutes to drive to this opera house. It was also the thirteenth and I knew it only held superstitious connotations when it was on a Friday, but I was still worrying.

I wanted to go see Kurt tonight.

Unlike the night I met him, it hadn't snowed in Berlin, yet. It didn't seem to show any signs of snow either, which made me sad. But, back to it being the thirteenth, even though it was a Saturday not a Friday, I still felt uneasy, even the atmosphere around me didn't feel right, like I knew something was going to happen and it wasn't even late, hell I wasn't even in the right century.

A taxi came at seven clock to take us to the opera, Jared was finally off the phone and mum was rambling about the opera and the 'spectacular reviews' it had received, trying to fill the awkward silence. You're probably thinking, why don't Grace and Jared talk more? Well, its just a little bit awkward when the parents are about and, I don't know much about his work to even discuss it with him. Trust me, we talk a lot more than right now. However, right now, I was slightly speechless around him. Jared attended numerous black tie events, but usually he would already be in London – where the majority of these evens were held- or in New York before the event would be announced. So this was one of the first times I had seen him in a suit and bow tie for a long time. I had forgotten just how handsome he looked in one too. The fresh white shirt clung and stretched over his chest and ever muscle that bulged out from under his skin. I was worried the buttons on his black jackets would pop off if he tried to button it up. He held himself a lot like Kurt did, with grace and authority over others, which back home he did. But he just looked fantastic, so fantastic I was at a loss for words as he walked through the lobby.