Shortly after arriving at the Morrison Hotel, Sayuri's ego defense mechanism activated when he saw the beautifuls of the hotel in full throttle, primed and tripping along. Feeling comfortable enough among them with his new stature of idiosyncrasies, he checked in and went directly to his second floor room. At least there he could openly reveal himself, if only to himself, and bask in the knowing that Marilyn Monroe once, or maybe more often, felt as self-conscious about herself as he felt about himself.

'She was beautiful too...' Sayuri pondered.

"Hello!" Sayuri said into the headpiece of the phone.

"Hey! What's your room number? The clerk won't give it to me." The voice from the other end spoke.

"207. You coming up now, Mark?"

"Yeah and I've got a surprise!" Mark emphasized surprise.

"Great!"

"See you in a minute."

"Okay." Sayuri agreed and then placed the receiver down on the telephone base.

Moments later knocks sounded from the other side of the door, and Sayuri shouted, "It's open," while he meticulously fussed over his hair.

"Hey! What's happening?" Mark asked as he looked into the room before he fully entered, closing the door behind him.

"Getting ready to go out." Sayuri answered, giving Mark a backward glance with the aid of the mirror. "So what's the surprise?" He added.

"Oh yeah! Turn around and face me." Mark ordered, and Sayuri complied. "Now close your eyes and keep them dosed." He again ordered.

"Okay, okay! I'll keep them closed, but hurry!" Sayuri excitedly assured.

When Mark himself was sure Sayuri wasn't peeking, he reached into each of his pants pockets and pulled out an object from both in clenching fist.

"Open your eyes." Mark commanded, and when Sayuri did as he was told, Mark added, "I'm holding something in each hand, but you only get to choose one. So pick carefully."

"I choose...the right hand." Sayuri said, after a moment of hesitation, and Mark opened the indicated hand to behold a joint.

"Cool!" Sayuri shouted, causing Mark to smile. "Now, what's in the other hand?" Sayuri curiously added in which Mark opened his other hand to reveal it held a bottle of Amyl Nitrate.

"I know what you're thinking." Mark exclaimed while he backed away from Sayuri.

"You know I hate Poppers!" Sayuri shouted as he threw his hairbrush at Mark, who was cynically laughing.

"Oww! Damn, it was just a joke." Mark explained.

"I know. I just wanted to throw something at you." Sayuri re-explained. "Fire this up so we can fly like eagles." He added as he threw the joint to Mark

After Sayuri and Mark smoked the joint down to a doobie and felt the Earth's gravitational pull, Sayuri finished his grooming while Mark spoke of events that happened since Sayuri was away.

"You remember Tony--they found him with-dead-and Jim-got tested-positive-Crackhead-crazy--" Mark relayed without pause.

Sayuri listened to the unpleasantness with the intrigue from knowing these. He wondered what was happening to the beautiful people and the beautiful (glass) world that for so long sheltered him like a mother would a child.

"Has everyone gone mad?" Sayuri interrupted.

"Yeah, I would say so." Mark answered with a sigh.

"That's sad...Are you ready to go down?"

"Let's go."

Sayuri and Mark walked past the hotel pool where, during the daytime, the beautifuls would splash about like dolphins. They also passed hotel windows, in which the curtains were drawn back, and inside the rooms, exhibitionists lived out their sexual fantasies with dilettante voyeurs. Sayuri and Mark stopped at one or another of these revealing windows before reaching Hieroglyphics, the hotel's club.

Before they entered, Sayuri and Mark could hear the blaring of the dance music from the outside And from the inside, the bombastic techno rhythms didn't seem to bother the beautifuls who were in full stride of dancing and cruising anyone who happened to cross their paths.

Sayuri looked around the Egyptian motif club and the expansive dance floor as hypnotic lights patterned colorful shapes on the opposing walls and the beautifuls that danced between them.

"Laissez les bon temps rouler!" Sayuri proclaimed to Mark, who in return shouted, "Hell yeah!"

"I'm going for a drink You want one?" Sayuri asked.

"Sure." Mark answered, sending Sayuri on his way.

A few mixed drinks and a couple valiums later, Sayuri felt loose enough to join the beautifuls on the dance floor. Meanwhile, Mark busied himself with conversation that was hard to sustain due to the loudness of the music. This did not matter because Sayuri, who was outrageously dancing among a small ocean of mermen, entranced Mark. Mark thought Sayuri to be the most beautiful of them all, but because of their great friendship he would not tell Sayuri of his burning affections which he harbored for so long.

"Can I cut in?" Mark shouted into Sayuri's ear.

"Sure." Sayuri shouted back. "Where have you been?" He asked.

"Over here, over there. You know, taking care of business." Mark answered, comically implying how precious his time was.

"Whatever." Sayuri laughed.

"I met this guy, so I'm going now." Mark stated.

"So soon?" Sayuri quizzed.

"Yeah..." Mark hesitated. "He's paying me." He quickly added.

Sayuri slowed his already slumbered dancing and gazed thoughtfully at Mark, who inadvertently avoided eye contact.

"You don't have to do that Mark. I have money to spare. " Sayuri pleaded to Mark, hoping he would consider his options.

"Sayuri, I don't need a handout from you." Mark suddenly stressed, while making eye contact with Sayuri to show the strength of his convictions.

"I just don't think you should whore yourself..."

"What?" Mark interjected before Sayuri could finish his sentence. "Is that what you think of me? A whore? Just another hustler, right?" Mark rationalized.

"No. I don't think that. I just don't want you out there alone. You might get hurt." Sayuri carefully explained his indiscretion.

"Listen Sayuri," Mark began. "You knew what I was when I first met you, and I've been doing it since. And it's cool that you worry about me when no one else gives a shit, but really you don't have to. I'll be fine." He assured as his anger quickly diluted.

"I know but..."

"I got to go now. I'll see you later." Mark offered as he t(b)urned away leaving Sayuri to stand alone.

In the narcissistic world Sayuri sizzled in, beauty was the Messiah, but Drugs and Sex were the practicing religions. Both were readily available and obtainable to the beautifuls, whether bought by unbiased money or bestowed upon them freely.

The Drug Couture, however, took second place to the Haute Couture of Sex. The drug doing only acted as an initiator and baptized two, or more, beautifuls by letting their fears cascade downward like angels falling from heaven. The drug trance also expanded sensual emotions of rapture and forbiddingly touched placebos that were only known to purified Buddhists.

The Haute Couture of Sex supremely reined in the beautiful world with its open secret known by only those who know. Nothing more can be explained about its illicitness without causing mixed emotions to amalgamate and erupt like sporadic orgasms.

"Wait...Wait...Wait..." Sayuri said in intervals to the beautiful stranger he brought back to his room.

"What is it? What's wrong?" The beautiful stranger asked, still burning inside.

"I can't do this." Sayuri stated. "It's not you." He added.

"What is it then? Tell me what to do." The beautiful stranger beseeched.

"I need to be left alone." Sayuri stated, and for a brief moment, silence filled the room.

"Okay. I'll go." The beautiful stranger said reaching for his clothes. "Was it something I did?" He asked, after he finished dressing.
 
 

"No. It has nothing to do with you." Sayuri answered.

"Yeah well, if it means anything, you still look good to me." The beautiful stranger exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to mislead you, and if it means anything, you look good to me too." Sayuri stated. "With or without your clothes." He teasingly added, causing the beautiful stranger to smile.

"Well, I hope to see you again sometimes. Even as just friends." The beautiful stranger offered.

"I'd like that too." Sayuri agreed, but he knew that he would never communicate with the beautiful stranger again.

After the beautiful stranger and Sayuri parted ways, Sayuri wandered around the hotel aimlessly. Other beautiful strangers approached him for sex, but he turned them down.

Where is Mark? Sayuri wondered as he walked along. I hope he's okay...I could love him...I do love him. He continued on in thought, and every notion that floated into his mind caused in him a growing awakening to the sorrow he planted within himself.

As Sayuri continued to wake from the mesmerizing world of faux beauty, he jumped over a low standing fence and placed himself beside the hotel pool. There, he realized he was captivated by a shared delusion that deflowered him from chances at amorous fulfillment. The shock of this sudden reality caused Sayuri to weep lightly because his actions of vanity did not lead to the words that everyone subconsciously longs to hear.

"I love you." Sayuri solemnly whispered to his watery reflection. "But I have to let you g(r)o(w)." He apologetically added as if his image would protest the release...

And yet, his image did nothing to invoke hesitation but did what all mirror surfaces do. It reflected Sayuri's face so that Sayuri might affect what he saw. And what Sayuri saw in the pool's reflection was a portrait of himself which he titled Loneliness. He giggled slightly at this thought as his t(f)ears dropped into the pool water, causing it to ripple and distort his natural photograph.

"I've been blind." Sayuri said aloud. "And all the while I could se(a)e." He added after he stood up to loosen his clothing.

"Excuse me." A man's voice said. "The pool's off limits after 5 p.m." The man's voice warned, though Sayuri didn't offer a glance.

"Yes, I know." Sayuri answered indirectly, removing his last article of clothing and unashamed that a stranger, and strangers, were looking on.

"Sir. Would you mind putting back on your clothes?" The man, probably hotel security, asked in a firm voice.

Sayuri turned but looked through the source of the voice, and the curious (un)beautiful who randomly gathered around to feast on his exposed, flawless skin.

"No." Sayuri defiantly stated with the accompaniment of detachment that flowed from the hollows of his eyes. "No." Sayuri repeated. And then suddenly, he dove into the translucent mirror, with the hope he could emerge from the cold depths of imaging, while also wondering if he would be allowed to crash upon the other shore. Over there! Look! See?

*lyric excerpt from 'Bedtime Stories' by Madonna.