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_Prelude

His eyes quivered and eventually flickered open to the morning light showering all over the bedroom in its brilliant, warm copper hue. He felt the velvet touch of the deep cadmium red sheets against his bare form and closed his eyes again, allowing a soft purring sound to escape through his throat, savouring the distinctive and pleasant scent of freshly cleaned fabric brushing against his fur and skin.

A series of thoughts kicked into motion and finally started racing through his mind; he felt his body was actually less able than would normally be required in order to sit up and ultimately get out of bed. Instead, he shifted around with a loud groan and turned to the other side, so as to look out of the window, past the raised shades. Instead of focusing on the exterior, however, his eyes were rather distracted by a poster hanging in perfect alignment to the right. A poster that was depicting a tiger, in the nude, in an elegant and captivating dancing posture: limbs extended gracefully, and tensed up, during a perfect twist around his right hind paw, an instant moment that the photographic lens was able to capture quite vividly, as if the body was still in motion. A tiger, in fact, that was himself. Below, the text that stood out among the rest of the information provided was the title of the event: '4.48' by Sarah Kane, in a dull grey font.

'Who lied, and said it was nice to see me... who lied and said it was nice to see me...'

He caught himself whispering some particular lines of the performance that bore an apparent importance to him, and recollecting memories from the numerous performances that were given, his mind was scattered across the room, engulfed in the sunlight's warmth; a soft autumn morning haze.

Shaking those notions off, he turned to place his gaze across the opposite side of the room, to a remarkably similar poster that was highlighted wonderfully by the rising sun. Instead of his own self, though, he recognized a different dancer, a somewhat less defined, yet immensely elegant snow leopard, on another very challenging pose. The tiger's eyes focused on the face of the performer who was being depicted on the glistening poster paper. Even with his eyes closed, that snow leopard, and that particular grimace had to be one of the most expressive images he would have ever seen; and at that particular moment, he grew quite confident that is would also be one of the most expressive moments captured he would ever see, as a matter of fact. Jaw relaxed, lips partially parting, the bright facial characteristics along with their sheer elegance, the long silken white hair flowing all over his muzzle and shut eyes, droplets of sweat tracing down his cheeks and wonderfully defined chin, matting his grey fur.

With a grunt, he brushed away the duvet and stood up, stretching, against the sun peering through the shades as it was slowly climbing up in the sky. Well in his thirties, now, he was still very fit. Featuring a well-defined physique, a tall and well-proportioned stature. Which could be mostly attributed, and he was well aware of the fact, to his engagement with the performing arts, and more specifically modern dancing.

Padding away from the bed, without even bothering to make the sheets in the least, he reached for the closet, fetching a fresh set of clothes to dress up in; a quite casual combination: a pair of blue, comfortably fitting jeans, a long-sleeved black t-shirt, and putting them on rapidly, he made for the door.

There, he lingered for a few precious moments. Throwing one last look over to the snow leopard in the poster. His paw flinched, as if trying to reach over. Head shaking. Eyebrows bleak.

At the kitchen table, he made himself a cup of instant coffee. He had a rather appealing selection of other varieties as well, filter and espresso to name a few, but he decided against the trouble and went for the easy solution, along with the lack of any other form of breakfast. His keen bright green eyes fell on a cigarette pack, neatly positioned along the table. Considering the notion for a moment, he shook his head and decided it was best not to have a smoke. With a sigh, his gaze fell out of the kitchen window, and at that particular time he was able to focus on the surroundings of his place, clear from any distractions within the room.

Right there, across the suburban road, there was that tiny German shepherd pup, trying her best to ride a mountain bike which was well taller than any size that would be recommended for her. For several moments and a couple more pedal strokes, it seemed like a certainty she would tumble over, but managed to save it time and time again; of course up to the point it was beyond any salvaging point, when she fell down with an inaudible thud. However, without the slightest delay, she got back on her hind paws and went back at it again. Soon, she was riding it successfully, even if not in the most graceful of manners, until she disappeared around the corner, where the tiger was sure he heard another thud, and within another few seconds, the same bicycle chain springing into motion again. He managed a warm smile to himself, and standing up, he moved out of his place, only taking a short moment to pick up his backpack and throw a bright purple scarf around his neck.

He was soon out on the street, walking eastwards, towards the East Finchley Underground station. Right before the corner, though, his eyes fell on a flower shop. Simply nodding to himself, he decided to step inside.

Any other day, he would have swapped trains to the Circle Line going Eastbound, but on that particular date, he would have to go all across the city, towards Hammersmith. He thought it would require a fair amount of changes along the way, but did not appear to mind in the least, as his thoughts slid over the pedals he was caressing of the white roses' bouquet he had just purchased and was holding in an affectionate manner. He focused on the feel of his paw tips against the delicate texture, and almost dozed off, purring, much to the surprise and amazement of certain other passengers who were bewildered at the sight of such a largely proportioned tiger holding a bunch of flowers in such a gentle manner.

His arrival to his destination was in a timely manner, as a result of the Underground's 'good service'. Finding the house he was heading towards, he walked up the stairs, took a moment to regain his composure, and clear his throat, and with a sigh, he rang the bell. Soon enough, he made out hasty steps from inside and the door was opened to reveal a palomino horse, who immediately recognized and smiled at him.

'Good morning you.'

'Hey Jason.' the tiger nodded and offered him a warm smile in return.

'Would you come on in?' Jason had shown the way in for the tiger, who accepted the invitation.

Stepping inside, he followed his equine friend towards the living room. There was Danielle, a young red fox, Jason's girlfriend, lying on the couch in a relaxed position, sipping on tea; and as soon as her eyes fell on the tiger guest of theirs, she smiled and leaned back against the comfortable beige pillows.

'Hey there Steven.' nimbly, she fished for a cigarette through her pack and produced a lighter to light it up so as to accompany her morning beverage. 'Early Saturday, isn't it?' With those last words, she pointed towards the bouquet that Steven, the tiger, was already in the process of carefully placing on the coffee table.

'I got my reasons.' Steven replied, looking around the living room of the couple that irradiated a very homely atmosphere. Maybe it was the combination of the warm colors on the walls along with minimalistic furniture, maybe it was the fact it was literally filled up to the brim with memoirs and souvenirs and things that held a significant importance to the pairing, or maybe it was simply their own aura, as he knew and felt it flowing around the house. 'Got any coffee besides just tea?'

'I think I already know you well enough mate.' chuckled the horse, patting him on the back. 'Prepared some for you already, I'll get it. Just didn't have the intention to watch it getting cold out here till you arrived.'

'Thoughtful as always' was the comment of the tiger, as he sat by Danielle and took the purple scarf off from around his neck, throwing it beside him. Before even registering it, Jason was already back from the kitchen with a pot of coffee.

'Besides the usual, any significant news?'

Steven looked up to Jason, as he was filling up his cup with warm coffee. He smiled and raised a paw to signal when he had enough in his cup and then proceeded to adding both milk and sugar from the dish nearby; a second black coffee in the same morning wouldn't quite agree with his stomach, he considered to himself.

He turned to look momentarily to the left, out of the window, and was instantly captivated by the image his sight had fallen on. The sun was even higher on the horizon, brilliant and majestic, shining bright through the red leaves of the oak tree, some of which would occasionally be torn off the branches, by the light gusts of wind to dance gracefully on their capricious way to the ground. A perfect autumn morning. With the warm smile still lingering on his face, he turned around, to face the couple. Jason had returned to his armchair, while Danielle was sitting on the arm, paws wrapped around her lover's neck.

He froze there, for a moment, looking at them, the smile gradually disappearing. Danielle easily got the picture and interrupted the embrace; she had realized that that could be ever so slightly uncomfortable on that specific day. Steven just shook his head, with a comforting smile across his face.

'Nah, not on my behalf, don't worry.'

'Well, it was not entirely... thoughtful' Danielle shrugged at the tiger, still with a hint of guilt in her voice.

'No, really, it's cool.'

In silence, they sat there for a few several moments, as if all three had that agreement perfectly set. In truth, they somehow had. Knowing each other for so long, they did not have a hard time recognizing thoughts drawn across the eyes. And even more so, most of their last meetings, on any possible occasion had been like that. There were times that silence was bearing more meanings than ever, and any word spoken would simply ruin the subtext this lack of sound was shaping.

Then, suddenly, Jason stood up and stepped behind the counter across the room, just to produce two more bouquets of white roses, freshly cut from their garden and wonderfully wrapped, with a single purple ribbon around each. The tiger felt a lump forming up his throat upon the sight.

'I know you wish to go there alone...' the horse had already stepped up in front of Jason, and was offering the flowers. '...but you wouldn't really mind dropping these off on our behalf now, would you?'

'Sure, I'm , I'm pretty sure he'll appreciate this.' Steven faked a chuckle, the unbearable lump lodged in his throat bringing him to the verge of tears. 'He'd normally receive one, now he'll have three. It's a pleasant surprise.'

'You can drop by for dinner tonight, if you please.' Danielle, significantly more observant than her boyfriend, noticed Steven's momentary discomfort and tried, successfully, to shift the focus of the encounter to less treacherous paths.

'Well, in order be technical about it, you rather ought to...' Jason got the underlying message and decided he should fill in. 'Christine will definitely be here, same with Chris and Laura... Possibly Catherine too.'

'Social gathering eh?' Steven was already getting up, already arranging his scarf around his neck, before proceeding with picking up carefully his own bouquet from the coffee table.

'Of sorts.' Jason nodded.

'Wouldn't miss it for the world...'

With that, the tiger made for the door, only to be interrupted by Jason's words.

'Are you sure you want to be there alone?'

Without even turning around to face either of them, the tiger nodded and replied.

'I have things to tell him. And they can't take an audience. Private things, that I have to tell him, while there is still flesh wrapped around his bones...'

Right as he stepped out of the house, he took a left turn and started walking away down the road. The sun was further higher on the horizon as the magnificent autumn morning was giving its place to a mildly cold and dull midday; the warm copper hue filter the oak leaves were producing as the sunlight brushed past them was now gone, its magic along with it. His eyes fell on a tall, ever-living oak tree to his right, which was shedding its leaves as the London winds were picking up. And as if choreographed, one of those leaves in particular, flew all the way across the road, to swivel and dance before him. The keen eyes of the mesmerized tiger locked on it, as it circled around him and then came to rest right in front of his feet.

And there he was, as his eyes gradually climbed up from the leaf to gaze across the road, on the junction. A snow leopard, waiting for Steven; that same snow leopard that was featured on the poster he had in his bedroom. The somewhat smaller feline was waiting on him, head slightly tilted to the left and offering him a warm smile, as the tiger reached him; expressing no form of greeting whatsoever. Still, the snow leopard turned around in his feet to follow Steven along, and they both trod on, towards the Hammersmith station, in complete silence.

A silence that lasted all the way until they both got on the train. Steven, who was up to that point mostly facing downwards, and diverting his eyes away from the snow leopard, finally raised his head to look at him, straight in the eyes. He stammered, trying to find the courage to speak out the words he had intended to for quite some time, but everything felt amiss, untidy, incorrect, out of place and time.

The snow leopard, who was seated right across him, in the train wagon of the northern line, heading southbound, leaned in closed and nodded, in an attempt to coax the words out of the tiger, and apparently, it worked out quite well.

'Matt, what the fuck do you want?'

The snow leopard simply shrugged at that, as it bore no significance whatsoever to him. This only added to Steven's apparent agitation.

'Matt, this cannot keep happening. Both you and me need to face it.' he leaned closer against Matt, stressing each and every word of the sentence his was forming, while the rest of the passengers of the train were staring in his direction. Yet, it did not seem to deter Steven in the least. 'I've tried to face it. I've committed myself to it, but it appears to make no difference.'

'So, what would you have me do?'

'Be gone...'

The people travelling along around them had started whispering to each other, occasionally pointing a finger or two towards their direction. Steven noticed that and lashed out at them with a sudden roar, losing his temper.

'Can't you fucking mind your own sodding business?!'

Instead of the effect he much desired though, the other passengers grew more and more interested at the scene, and kept watching more intensely in his direction, clearly bewildered, and obviously his outburst had done nothing but divert more attention towards his way.

Matt, on the other hand, had not even flinched and was looking straight in the eyes of Steven, apparently oblivious of what was going on around them, or rather, electing not to pay any attention whatsoever.

'I doubt they can quite understand this, dear...'

Steven, by the time was getting more and more furious at the situation, and thus started clutching harshly against the three bouquets he held in his paws, as he turned back to face Matt.

'Why? Can I?'

'There isn't much to understand.'

'I understand I want you to be gone.'

'That's a lie if I ever heard one.'

'I do, I truly, honestly do.'

'No you don't, it's only what you tell yourself.'

And that was the final drop for the tiger, who eventually snapped. He furiously threw the flowers on the train floor and leaned forward, plunging his head between his knees, muffling every single word of his, as he roared out of pain, frustration and anger alike, all of those emotions mingling up in a way he could not really distinguish or point out exactly what was what, what he was feeling, doing or even saying for that matter.

'Get out, get out, get out, leave me alone, leave me ALONE, go, and GO! Leave me the FUCK ALONE!'

And then, there were a few moments of pure serenity. He started breathing, heavily, and the breathing eventually turned into silent sobbing, which simply intensified upon feeling a paw against his shoulder. He knew it was Matt, in fact, it had to be him. But he was proven wrong, as he slowly raised his head to set his eyes upon a young husky with bright blue eyes, one of the passengers, who bore an expression of genuine concern drawn all over his face. He was carrying a backpack himself, possibly a student, Steven thought.

'You alright mate?'

Steven tried to manage a nod, as he reached to pick up the flowers he had thrown across the floor a few moments ago. And by doing so, he glanced over across the wagon, where Matt was seated. But the seat was now empty. He was gone. And as the train doors closed again and the train accelerated to leave the station it had just stopped at, he pulled the flowers back into his lap, trying to sort the bouquets out and fixed any damage he had caused, his fingers still trembling.

The tiger looked back at the husky, mustering a weak smile.

'Thanks. I think I am better, much better...'