Come Back to My Lemon Castle
I went on a blind date with a girl from out of town. She was visiting Shenzhen, to watch an innovative play written and directed by her best friend. “It’s one of a kind,” she said on the phone, “as a creative person, you’ll love it.”
I arrived at the Shenzhen Grand Theatre, and texted her, to let her know I was early. After a few minutes, my phone rang, it was my date, Amanda. She said, she would be late, and gave me directions to collect the ticket from her friend. When I went backstage, it was swarmed with actors, coming in and out of their costumes, makeup artists doing last minute touches, and a few photographers flashing away.
“I’m looking for the lemon princess,” I said exactly what Amanda had asked me to. But no one reacted. So I straightened my posture, inhaled deeply through my nose, and repeated myself. Two makeup artists paused, looked at my reflection in the mirror, and smiled. One of them shouted something in Chinese, and an actress walked up to me. She was barefoot, wore a tight black skirt, but nothing on the top, “we were expecting you,” she kissed me on my cheek, grabbed a yellow tank top from her makeup artist, and put it on. She then walked me to the other end of the room, sneaked through the curtain that opened to the theatre hall, and directed me to get seated. “Enjoy the show,” she said. I thanked her, and walked into the hall.
The only two vacant seats together were in the middle of the front row. I sat down, pulled out my phone and texted Amanda, “Met your lemon princess 🤣 Waiting for you in the front row.” The lights in the hall dimmed. I wonder if she’ll be able to find me, I looked at my phone again. Then the hall got completely dark, the only things visible were night lights on the edge of every row. Someone made an announcement in Chinese, it sounded like they were introducing tonight’s play. My phone vibrated, I sneaked a peek, “what did you think of her?” she wrote. “Who? The lemon princess?” I replied, “she showed me more than I expected 😉”
The curtains opened, the music came on, and the play started. My phone vibrated, “did you like what you saw?” Amanda wrote. I didn’t know if that was a trick question. Though the vision of the lemon princess was vivid in my mind, I didn’t want to jeopardize this blind date. “I’m a gentleman,” I wrote. “Right 🙄 A gentleman is simply a patient wolf,” she replied. “I’m patiently waiting for you lol,” I wrote back. “Do you like small breasts or the ones you just saw?” she wrote. WTF, am I being punked? I recalled one of the episodes of Friends, in which Rachel meets a woman named Amanda, and suspects that she was a man. “A man dah!” Rachel says.
I wondered if I was being set up. Maybe I’m thinking too much, I thought, and unlocked my phone, “are you almost here?” I wrote, but she didn’t reply.
The play was in Chinese, so I didn’t know what was happening. Though it appeared there was a romantic triangle, and the lemon princess was a part of it. Every time she spoke, the crowd cheered. I really need to learn Chinese, I thought. After ten minutes or so, I checked my phone, but there were no messages. The play continued, the lemon princess changed into another costume, made out with two different actors, and the crowd cheered. I looked at my phone, and sighed, “??????” I wrote to her, then deleted it, and put my phone away.
After about 12-15 minutes, there was a new scene, where the lemon princess laid on the floor of the kitchen, her body wrapped in a towel soaked in blood. The audience gasped. I checked my phone, and shook my head. Someone in a hideous black costume who looked like the angel of death picked up the lemon princess, and walked out. The lights on the stage dimmed. This is ridiculous, I thought, pulled out my phone, and texted Amanda, “spoiler alert: your friend just died.”
I looked around, it’s fine, I got stood up, I thought the interval between scenes was the perfect time for me to sneak out of the theatre. But then I heard footsteps in my direction. It was too dark to see who it was. Someone came and sat in Amanda’s vacant seat. “Did that turn you on?” she whispered in my ear. “What the hell? Amanda? Is that you?” I asked. “No, the last scene, did that turn you on?” she held both of my wrists. “Who the fuck are you?” I said. All of a sudden, she tied my hands with something, and then I heard the same footsteps walking away. I jumped up, tried to pull my hands apart, and looked around in the darkness. The music came on, then a spotlight on me, and the audience clapped.
“What the hell is going on?” I shouted.
“You killed the lemon princess,” someone in the audience said.
The lights came on, the curtains pulled, and the complete cast of the play stood on the stage. The audience cheered.
“Hey hey,” the lemon princess extended her hand in my direction, “your expression was priceless,” she laughed, “now come baby, come back to my lemon castle.”
