Tu Es Mon Soleil - Chapter 8

“Oh, crap!” Portia gasped sharply when she pulled out her phone from her bag. Ellen DeGeneres had called her 8 times but she didn’t catch the tone since she left her bag on the other side of the stage. She quickly put on a pair of jeans and her shoes before saying goodbye to her teacher.

 

That woman must be furious, Portia thought worriedly while trying to call Ellen back. She jogged along the rows of the viewers seat to quicken her pace. 

 

On the second tone, Ellen DeGeneres’ voice was heard on the other side. “De Rossi? Why didn’t you pick up the calls?”

 

Portia winced. “Sorry,” she answered quickly. “I didn’t hear my phone ringing.”

 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Portia repeated. “Where are you now? I’ll come and get you.”

 

“Stop,” Ellen said suddenly.

 

Portia practically stopped her pace because she didn’t quite understand what did the other woman meant. “Huh?””

 

“Yes, stop like that,” Ellen said. “Now turn to your left.”

 

Portia followed Ellen’s instruction.

 

Her eyes widened when she saw Ellen was sitting on one of the viewer’s seats in the theater. That woman gave her a small smile while putting down her phone from her ear.

 

Portia blinked in confusion. First of all, because Ellen DeGeneres SMILED. That woman had never flashed her a smile, not even once. Well, Ellen often gave her an insipid or cynical smiles, but those couldn’t be counted as a smile, right? Second of all, because Ellen was there. Portia couldn’t decide which one was more strange.

 

“What are you doing here?” Portia asked while looking to the left and right side, looking for someone who could explain Ellen’s presence there, and then back at the woman. “How long have you been here?”

 

Ellen put her phone on her jeans pocket and lightly said, “By the way, you can put down your phone.”

 

Portia realized that she was still holding her phone on her ear. She quickly put it back into her bag. She was about to repeat the question when Ellen interjected. 

 

“So that’s what people call a contemporary dance,” Ellen mumbled while looking on the direction of the stage where the dancers were busy practicing.

 

Portia couldn’t figure out whether Ellen was talking about the dancers on the stage. Did the woman watch her dancing earlier?

 

“I didn’t know you listen to Italy’s songs,” Ellen continued, turning her head to Portia.

 

Oh yes, that woman had been there from the moment Portia was dancing. 

 

Portia shrugged and replied, “I don’t even know that you could recognize Italy’s songs.”

 

Ellen DeGeneres stared at Portia with her squinted eyes, but this time Portia didn’t feel like taking a step back. Ellen’s stare this time wasn’t an inimical one. And by the way, Ellen hadn’t spilled any anger since Portia didn’t answer her phone calls and she had to wait. This was really truly bizarre. 

 

“I’m a musician,” Ellen replied back with a hint of arrogance on her voice. “Of course I know all kinds of music and songs.”

 

Portia wanted to reply that not only musicians needed to know all kinds of music and songs. Dancers did too. But at that moment, Ellen stood up from her seat and walked out of the row, so Portia shut back her mouth and stepped aside to give way. 

 

Ellen got out from the theatre with Portia trailing behind. 

 

“So, have you met your teacher?” Portia asked while wearing her jacket. 

 

Ellen nodded. “Yes.”

 

“He still remembers you?” 

 

“Of course,” Ellen said, sounding offended, as if everyone in Juilliard must knew herself. Portia didn’t give any other comments. 

 

Ellen hesitated for a second. But she finally asked, “That woman was your teacher?”

 

Portia stole a glance at Ellen. Really, that woman was really different today. She tried to actually build a conversation with Portia, whereas usually she would only talk in very short sentence. It seemed that Ellen DeGeneres’ mood was really bright today. 

 

“Yep,” Portia said. “One of my teachers.”

“She gave you lots of compliments back there.”

“She did?” Portia mumbled carelessly. 

 

Ellen looked at Portia. “She said you’re one of her best dancers.”

 

“Yeah?” Portia shrugged. “There are lots of other great dancers who are better than me. Anyway, where do you wanna go now? Home? What about you just wait in the main lobby and I’ll go get the car…”

 

Ellen shook her head and interjected, “I don’t wanna go home just yet.”

 

“Oh? Well then, where do you wanna go?”

 

Ellen seemed to be thinking for a while. And then once again, a slight smile crossed her face and she said, “Music store.”

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Portia put on one of the available headphones and started to choose the song she wanted to listen to. This activity had always been the first thing to do whenever she visited a music store. Using the facility to listen to some songs before deciding which one to buy. Ellen had already disappeared to the classical section, so Portia could relax by herself for a bit. 

 

Actually, Ellen DeGeneres’ wonderful mood today had slowly melted the tension that Portia had always been feeling whenever she was nearby. No, they couldn’t be called as ‘friends’ just yet, but at least for now, Ellen seemed to not despise Portia as much as she usually did. 

 

That’s a pretty good progress. If talking with her piano teacher for several hours could make Ellen change into a bit of a good person as it did today, Portia would be glad to drive her to the Juilliard everyday. 

 

Portia didn’t know how long she had been standing there and listening to the song, but she didn’t realize the presence of Ellen who was standing next to her until she accidentally turned her head and saw the woman. Portia quickly put off the headphone. 

 

“Are you finished?” she asked while glancing at some CDs on Ellen’s hand.

 

“What are you listening to?” Ellen asked her back instead. She looked at the CD that was still spinning on the glass box. “L’Aura?”

 

Portia nodded. “Irraggiungibile,” she said, mentioning the title of the song she was listening to.

 

“If you really like Italy’s songs…” Ellen observed the rows of CDs on the rack in front of her. “Have you heard Elisa’s songs?”

 

“Dancing?” Portia asked.

 

“Other than that?” Ellen asked.

 

Portia shook her head.

 

“Then, you should try this one,” Ellen said while pushing a button to play the CD she had chose. “Put on the headphone.”

 

“What song is this?” Portia asked while following Ellen’s instruction.

 

“Eppure Sentire.”

 

Portia didn’t know what the title of the song meant. But that title sounded beautiful when Ellen said it. Portia closed her eyes and concentrating to the waving melody on her ears, and then slowly, her lips curved a smile. The song was very delicate and comforting. The song had succeeded on finding a way to Portia’s soul. Making her feel like she was floating. Some dancing movements were automatically appeared in her mind. 

 

Oh, this song’s really beautiful! She could dance to this song.

 

After the song finally ended, Portia looked up and flashed Ellen a wide smile. “I have to find this song,” she said with such enthusiasm and sparkly eyes. “This song is really good. You’re a genius. Thank you so much.”

 

Portia smiled wider to Ellen.

 

Ellen was stunned, realizing that that was the first smile that Portia de Rossi had ever flashed her. She felt weird. That girl oftenly smiled. But never to Ellen. Of course Ellen knew, that’s because she herself had never given Portia any reason to smile at all. Why should she? Why did you ever want your darkness angel to smile at you?

 

But now that she had seen the way that girl smiled to her, Ellen had to admit that she never knew if any darkness angel could ever smile that way.

 

Portia looked to her left then to her right. “I have to find….. Oh, hello!” She stopped a worker who was passing by. “I hope you don’t mind helping me,” Portia said while smiling. 

 

“Of course not,” the tall boy with the logo of the music store on his shirt answered. 

 

“I need to find this CD,” she said, pointing to Elisa’s CD on the glass box. “Where can I find it?”

 

“Ah, Elisa? Right here… Come on, I’ll show you.”

 

“Thank you. You’re very kind.”

 

They both left while having a small conversation, leaving Ellen by herself. She sighed and shook her head. She decided to put on the headphone Portia was using and started to play the CD while waiting.

 

After 15 minutes and no sign of Portia, Ellen turned off the player and went to look for that girl. She found the girl, but not where the store displaying Elisa’s CDs like she thought. Instead, she found that girl still talking with the worker on the Instrumental section.

 

Portia saw Ellen approaching. Her eyes were shining with excitement and she said, “Look what Dylan had found me!”

 

Dylan? Ellen glanced at the name tag that the worker wore on his left chest. Oh, his name’s Dylan. She looked back to Portia who was holding up a CD. “What’s that?” Ellen asked.

 

“Your album,” Portia answered and smiled broadly. “I asked Dylan whether they have your CD or not, and turned out they have. So I’m going to buy one because I’ve never listened to any of your songs.”

 

 

Ellen quietly snorted. She wanted to say that she could give Portia her CD for free if the girl wanted, but she canceled her intention. Instead, she asked her, “You listen to instrumental songs too?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Dylan looked at Ellen and blinked. “Oh, so you’re Ellen DeGeneres?”

 

Ellen looked at him with no expression. “Yes.”

 

“Wow, cool! I have your album too. Can I ask for your autograph?” Dylan asked, looking amazed. Then his eyes went to Ellen’s bandaged arm. “But what happened to your arm?”

 

Ellen glanced at Portia who stayed silent. She looked back at Dylan and answered, “An accident.” She didn’t feel that she need to give out any explanation to the worker. “You said you want my autograph?”

 

“Ah, right. Sorry, can you hold on for a minute? I’ll go get my CD.”

 

After Dylan left, Portia looked at Ellen and hesitantly asked, “So…. what did you buy?”

 

Ellen showed her the CDs on her hand, most of them were classics. 

 

Portia pointed at one CD which had Japanese calligraphy on it.  “Japanese song?” she asked.

 

“Japanese pianist,” Ellen answered. “I don’t think you know him.”

 

Portia shook her head. “You can read Japanese?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Right…” Portia mumbled. “Regina told me that your mom obligated you to learn Japanese since you were little, even though your mother language is English.”

 

Ellen nodded. “What’s your mother language?”

 

Portia hesitated for a bit, which confused Ellen, but then she said, “English.”

 

“I mean….”

 

“I know what you mean,” Portia interjected. Then she shrugged and answered, “I was adopted and I never knew where do I actually come from. So…… yeah.”

 

Ellen fell silent. 

 

Portia flashed Ellen her signature smile again. “So, my mother language is English.”

 

Then, Dylan came back with Ellen’s CD and a sharpie. Ellen quickly signed the booklet of the CD and reluctantly agreed with Dylan’s request on taking a picture. Portia was appointed to be a split-second photographer. 

 

“He asked to take a picture with me while my hand looks like this,” Ellen grumbled when she and Portia finally exited the music store. 

 

Portia laughed. “Chill out. I made sure that your hand wasn’t showing on the pic,” she said.

 

“Thanks,” Ellen replied while still grumbling.

 

Ellen stopped by the side of the car on the passenger side and observing Portia walking to the driver side. “By the way, de Rossi,” she said.

 

Portia opened the door but then looked up. “Yeah?”

 

Ellen doubted whether or not she needed to say it. Would it seem weird if she said it? But finally, she spoke. “I don’t think you look like a European or an American. I think you’re probably an Australian.”

 

For some split second, Portia looked a bit confused, but then a smile grew on her face. “Actually, I don’t think I look like an Australian,” she tilted her head a bit. 

“But, thank you.”