85: Wait, What?

Stephen crossed his legs and folded his hands on his knee. Perched lightly on the tufted leather couch, nestled amongst raw silk cushions in tasteful colors, he narrowed his eyes at the psychologist observing him from the armchair a few feet away. He had been watching her in silence for some time now.

“Mr. Wren,” she said at last, “May I call you Stephen?” He nodded, “Stephen, may I remind you that you booked today’s session? I don’t mind if you want to sit quietly for the next hour, but I don’t think it’s the best use of our time.”

Stephen uncrossed his legs, then recrossed them at the ankles, purposefully making a more relaxed pose. He took a deep breath, “Yes I agree,” then he resumed his blank staring.

She flipped through her tablet for a moment. A small round woman in her middle years, she had a very sharp stare that didn’t match her otherwise placid demeanor. “Well, perhaps you’re not in a forthcoming mood, shall we review what you wrote in your intake application?”

She pulled up a page and skimmed it, “Your partner of several months has gone no-contact and left the country.” She checked for a reaction, and he kept his face smooth, “Would you like to explore why that happened, and discuss some strategies for how to manage what you’re feeling now?”

Stephen gave a tiny nod, barely a centimeter dip of his chin.

“Chai tea?” she asked suddenly, then before he could answer, she turned to the cupboards beside her chair and pulled out a kettle and some cups, “So, where shall we start? Perhaps with how you first met him?”

*****

Inho cupped his hands around his lighter, shielding it from the chill wind, “How strange,” he quirked a smile at Min around the cigarette in his mouth, “Seeing you smoke. So out of character.” The flame vanished despite his efforts.

“It helps me get through the overtime,” Min managed to light his, “Plus smokers always get to sneak away more often.”

“Right?!” Inho agreed emphatically, “So unfair.”

Min nodded and leaned in, offering the end of his own cigarette when Inho’s lighter puffed out again. “Here,” he sucked hard so the cherry glowed, and Inho moved towards him.

“You know what they call lighting them like this in Canada?” Inho asked with a grin, “Some kitchen staff taught me,” he touched the tip of his cigarette to Min’s. Min cupped his hand around Inho’s, protecting their smokes from the wind. His hand was warm. With their faces nearly touching, Inho caught Min’s gaze.

“What do they call it?” Min asked softly, the look in his eyes was somehow warm as well. Inho choked on his inhale and took a quick step back.

“B-Buttfucking” Inho stammered, “They call it buttfucking.” Min raised his eyebrows and Inho’s cheeks heated for a reason he couldn’t explain. “It’s a pun in English. Um, nevermind.”

Min ignored Inho’s awkwardness, “How long are you back for? We missed you... I missed you.”

Inho bounced his shoulders once, then a second time, “I donno. I don’t have a plane ticket yet. It feels weird being back, like I’m sleepwalking or something.”

“Reverse culture shock maybe?”

“Is that a thing?”

“Yeah, you’ve had a lot of changes in a short time. Don’t stress yourself out too much, and take some time to adjust.”

Inho nodded pensively, wondering if that was why it felt so weird and wrong to be here. He’d been finding himself almost spotting people from back home in the crowd around him all night. Impossible of course, but a passing girl with long dark hair had caught his eye as Jasmine just a moment ago.

Min was talking, and Inho reminded himself through the fuzz of alcohol to pay attention.

“...so I wanted to tell you now, while I have the chance,” he was saying.

Inho nodded, pulling his phone which had been buzzing furiously for a few minutes out of his pocket. It must be frozen or something.

Min was still going, his voice washing over Inho, “I wanted to respect your relationship with Jamie, but I just didn’t think–”

Inho nodded again, scrolling through the stream of messages and missed calls. Shit. He’d forgotten why his phone had been off. It was every message and attempt to contact him that Stephen had made since Inho left. The desperate words on the screen caught and held him: Please Inho, I love you. Inho’s chest constricted painfully, and his hand started to shake. Please don’t do this, please just tell me…

Inho’s breathing became fast and ragged, and a humid wave of nausea swept over him. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and dropped his cigarette when it suddenly burned his fingers. He’d forgotten to smoke it.

“– And, I know it’s not a great time, but you might disappear again, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” Min hadn’t stopped talking, Inho had missed most of what he said. He raised his blank gaze to try and focus on something other than the phone burning in his back pocket.

“Inho, I really like you. As more than a friend. I have for ages – since high school.”

What?

Inho’s eyes focused at last, Min’s face was as shaken as his own.

“I’m – I’m sorry if you’re disgusted or, or–”

Inho was dumbfounded, he scrambled to pull the rest of what Min had been saying out of the smoke around them. But, he found nothing to explain why his childhood friend was suddenly confessing to him in front of a shitty pub with a drunk puking a few feet away.

“Min, what?”

Min bit his lip, but before he could answer, Junseo and Hayoon waltzed out of the front door.

“He’s back in the game!” Junseo crowed, patting Hayoon on the shoulder, “Wait, why is it awkward?”

Inho stared at him stupidly, and Min turned away, hands on his hips.

“Did you guys fight? What’s wrong?”

“No, ah–” Inho thought quickly; he had to cover for Min, “My ex texted me, I’m just bummed out.”

“Ah! Fuck Jamie! Wait, was it the hot one? Fuck her too!”

Inho laughed weakly.

“You know Inho, they say best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

“Is that so?” Inho shot furtive looks at Min. Was he crying? Why was he hiding his face?

“Yeah! So come to a group date with me next week, I’ll introduce you to some girls!”

“‘Kay,” Inho wasn’t listening.

“I’m gonna go,” Min announced over his shoulder, then suddenly strode away.

“Weird!” Junseo exclaimed, shaking Hayoon who had begun to sag again, “Min’s acting weird! You sure you didn’t fight?”

Inho shrugged, not sure of anything.