The Crow Club: Over My Dead Body

Chapter 1.

Friday evenings in Bangkok are far from pleasant, even though people's spirits are high because it's the last workday of the week. This means they don't have to wake up early tomorrow to battle the massive crowds before dawn (and it's not even certain there are any real chickens in the city). But before they can truly enjoy their rest, they have to survive a brutal battle before reaching home.

 

Van is no longer a full-time employee, so he doesn't feel as depressed about the rush to get home. He considers today just another of those awful days spent working outside the home, and, coincidentally, his shift ends at the same time as most office workers'. By 4:30 PM, crowds start to build up at both the BTS and MRT stations. 6 PM to 7 PM is hell. Everywhere you look, there are sweaty, stressed office workers. Even the office ladies who've been dressed up and made up since morning look a mess by this time. They've already battled work all day, and now they have to contend with the massive crowd of office workers racing through the stations. Their hair is a mess, their faces reflect exhaustion, and only the last bit of lipstick on their lips, a last glimmer of encouragement, remains.

 

Van thought his height was an advantage because it prevented him from bumping into other people's heads while queuing for the BTS. The air up there was slightly fresher and more pleasant to his nose, but he still couldn't escape the head bumps of the young man in front of him. He tried to ignore the crowdedness, the rudeness of someone who just kept pushing, shoving, and bumping into him without apologising, and the sticky feeling of the evening air in the capital. Even though the sun was gone, the heat trapped on the concrete and buildings was slowly melting and radiating, making him feel like he was taking a sticky breath by the sea, except there was no breeze to dry his sweat at the BTS station. Combined with the suit he was wearing, it not only felt awkward and out of place but also as hot as sitting in a sauna. But he chose to keep his suit jacket on because taking it off and carrying it now would be too cumbersome.

 

The first train arrived. Van realised from the crowd that he probably wouldn't be able to board this one, as it was packed. Even if some people got off at this station, the people in front of him would all be scrambling to get on first. He, near the back of the line, had no way to squeeze through. The only option was to be polite and run in, which wasn't Van's habit. He chose to scan the huge advertising screens of the famous mall, with Sombr's "Undressed" playing in the background. He didn't know all the celebrities on the screen, only those who starred in popular movies and the big names who had been around for a long time. 

 

These days, new faces are popping up like mushrooms after a rainstorm, and they often come in groups. T-pop was booming this year; idol culture was taking shape, much like Japan and Korea a decade ago, but in a more independent version. Van wasn't a huge fan, but he knew some of the songs, even if he didn't recognise their faces. Because of that, he had no idea who the large group of people gathered in front of the mall were screaming about. From up here, all I can see is a group of five or six teenage boys enthusiastically holding microphones and cracking jokes. Cheers of encouragement erupt in their voices, almost every half minute. Many girls on the station crowd together at the front, trying to zoom in and film the scene below with their phones, while those who aren't paying attention mutter under their breath in annoyance.

 

Five minutes later, the second train pulled into the station. People poured out, sighing heavily as if they had been holding their breath the entire way. Those who had been waiting outside swarmed inside. Comfortable seats were out of the question; just having enough space to put your feet down was enough. Van managed to find a spot next to a door pole, comfortably gripping the overhead handrail. He tried to look through the window instead of at the people inside. This proximity made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to be touched by anyone, especially the women surrounding him. He knew they didn't want to be touched either, but because they had no choice, everyone had to act like bottles crammed together in a plastic pack, unable to resist. Van didn't want to make eye contact with anyone, and he certainly didn't want to glance at anyone's cell phone screen accidentally.

 

It took Van about twenty minutes to reach his destination station. The crowd was thinner than before, so he didn't have to jostle through the chasing crowd as if trying to escape. Van took a deep breath, checked the time on his phone, which he'd kept the whole way, and found that it was as expected. He should arrive home around 7 PM, just as he'd told the others.

 

Van stepped off the BTS station and walked a few steps to find a gang of motorcycle taxis waiting for him. They communicated primarily through eye contact; sometimes, a handshake or nod wasn't even necessary. Just a split-second glance and a driver in an orange vest would be straddling their trusty motorcycle waiting on the sidewalk. Van was quite familiar with these drivers, having ridden with them regularly. While not close enough to be friends, he was confident they recognised him and knew where he went. He still whispered his destination as a formality, though it took less than three minutes to arrive in front of his house. The distance from the station wasn't far, but walking down the street was tiring, especially after a long day's work. Van wanted to get there as quickly as possible, and a motorcycle taxi was the perfect solution, even if it was a little nerve-wracking and the drivers would roll their eyes in annoyance when Van asked to pay by scanning a QR code.

 

Van's current home looks quite different from what most people imagine when they hear the word "home." It's not a detached house, and it's not a condo, but a five-story building that used to be white, which Van now calls "dirty." Looking up, you can see balconies jutting out. Every floor is overgrown with plants, seemingly planted intentionally but with no attempt to keep them beautifully maintained. One could say the green adds freshness, but another could say it looks like an abandoned house left for plants to live in.

 

Similarly, especially the green wrought-iron balcony, which must have been beautiful in its early days, is now a strong line adorned with vines, the dark green paint shedding in the wind and weather. It's the same colour as the sliding wooden doors downstairs, which house a small bar with unusual liquors from around the world (whatever they can find), local spirits from every province, and live music every day from unknown musicians. Many people say this bar has an incredibly cool vintage style, but I'm pretty sure it's genuinely old, not faking it in any way.

 

Van stood staring at the ominous-looking door, folded tightly against the doorframes. Beyond that door was another, slightly ajar. He glanced at the time on his phone screen again and frowned, thinking that 7:16 PM was a bit early for customers. The shop usually opened at 8:30 PM, and tonight they had a celebratory gathering for a friend who had completed a major project after four months of hard work. But Van didn't expect the woman to open the shop so early for them.

 

Van pushed the door open, taking only a step and a half inside. Before he could even scan the area for answers to his questions, a long, straight object flew towards him, whizzing past his ear before slamming against the door behind him with a loud thud! Van froze in shock, looking down at the floor and realising it was a drumstick. He glanced back in the direction it had come from and saw it was a group of people standing in a circle, shouting in front of the musicians' area. He couldn't make out what they were arguing about, but he knew for sure that the conversation was filled with foul language, and some of the people in the group were his friends.

 

In the middle of the group was Taengmo and another overweight man Van didn't recognise. They glared at each other, Taengmo pointing at the other and shouting insults until his throat was hoarse. Mimi stood beside him, looking like she was about to cry, gripping Taengmo's arm tightly because he kept trying to lunge at the fat man. Meanwhile, Nae was holding Mimi's wrist. Between Taengmo and his opponents was Yo-ye, who tried to stop them with a face that looked like he wanted to bash their heads together. A little further away was Talay, watching anxiously. He was trying to shield the gang, who seemed to be friends of the "Pig Demon" (sorry for the name, Van didn't know him), from ganging up on Taengmo. But in his hand, he held a liquor bottle, not in a drinking pose, but more like he was about to smash it on someone.

 

What the hell is this?

 

While Van watched the scene unfold in confusion, someone walked up to him, stopped, and bent down to pick up a fallen drumstick with a completely nonchalant expression. It was Patee.

 

"Tee," Van called out. The other man turned to look at him as if he hadn't even noticed he'd been standing there all along.

 

"Oh," Patee said calmly. What did he mean by saying "Oh" with such a blank expression? Van had no idea whether this expressionless man was surprised.

 

They were all surprised. "Did you go to a wedding?"

 

Patee asked after scanning Van from head to toe. Van frowned incredulously at the eccentric guy's detached behaviour. While his friends were having a huge argument behind him, this guy just walked out to pick up his drumsticks and then asked Van, "Did you come from a wedding?" as if the scene behind them was just a rehearsal.

 

“No,” Van answered dismissively, then asked anxiously, “What happened?”

 

"The new musician secretly took pictures under Mimi's skirt," Patee replied calmly, glancing briefly behind him as if afraid Van wouldn't know who Mimi was. "Nae saw it and took it."

 

There was no need for a lengthy explanation (Patee never did; that was the longest he could ever speak at once). Van understood the situation immediately. Mimi was a pretty girl, that fat guy was a perverted psychopath who secretly took pictures of her, Nae was Mimi's best friend and protector, and Taengmo was a mad dog. Van understood that Nae must have been furious with that fat demon to choose to unleash the mad dog to deal with it like this, which was understandable, because if Van had witnessed the incident first, he wouldn't have been able to handle it quietly either.

 

"What the hell are you, you fatso! Go see a doctor if you're mentally ill, you animal!"

 

But I'm not sure if it will be as popular as Taengmo is now.

 

“Can I borrow your phone?” Patee asked. Van handed him his phone without asking any questions, because he was thinking about what to do in the situation. Should he intervene?

 

Should I try to stop them or get involved in the fight peacefully?

 

"Where did Auntie go?" Van asked.

 

"She had some errands to run," Patee replied calmly, lowering his head and pressing buttons on Van's mobile phone.

 

"Now?"

 

"Mm-hmm," he replied, before raising his cell phone to his ear. Van stared at the strange man, speechless. He couldn't believe Patee's calmness.

 

Which is sometimes a little creepy in a way I can't quite explain.

 

fire!

 

There was no time to think any longer. Another bottle of liquor flew towards Van. He dodged, and the bottle slammed into the back door, shattering. Liquor splattered on his back and into his pants. Van looked down at the burnt-smelling liquid pooling on the floor, some of it staining his rented leather shoes, before letting out a deep sigh.

 

The circle, centred around Watermelon and the Pig Demon (with Yo-ye squeezed in the middle), was in chaotic disarray. It seemed the suppression team couldn't control the hotheadedness of both sides. Watermelon landed a punch squarely on the Pig Demon's face, while a giant lunged at Yo-ye. Yo-ye raised her hands in a fighting stance, eyes tightly shut, bracing for the blow. But the giant fell first, struck by Mimi's powerful jump kick, as if completely forgetting she was wearing a skirt. Yo-ye's eyes widened in surprise at Mimi's kick (she's a karate instructor, what's so surprising about that?), before she got up, took off her jacket, and tied it around the waist of the seemingly frightened girl who had been relentlessly kicking men.

 

"You bastard!" Van cursed angrily. The situation left him no choice. He reached for a wooden chair lying nearby and then lunged into the group as well.

 

"Yes, The Crow Club. Please come quickly."

 

Patee spoke to the police officer on the phone while watching his friend and the new musicians who were brawling in the dust.

 

"The suspect hasn't escaped yet. We've apprehended him."

 

And Patee didn't tell the police that they had arrested the suspect. What he meant by "arresting the criminal" was the specific method used, because if he gave more details, he thought it might be his friends who ended up in jail.

 

People in this world can be divided into two very crude categories: one who follows the trend, and those who are the complete opposite, those who go against the trend.

 

Trendsetters are the majority of people who know what society wants and follow that path in line with expectations. This type of person can be further divided into two groups: those who naturally follow the trend, seeing what the majority do and naturally following suit without questioning it. These people lead the simplest and most comfortable lives. The second subgroup consists of those who have questions but choose not to act on them. This group disagrees with certain mainstream views, harbouring minor dissent, but ultimately chooses to follow the path society has laid out because they want to be like the first group—simple and safe.

 

The opposing factions, though few in number, have created incredible ripple effects on many occasions. However, they are a group that society tries to suppress and push out of the system to prevent the rise of dissenters. This creates frustration and annoyance for the primary group striving to maintain a structured society, because as long as everyone thinks and acts alike, governance is easy. And the more those opinions align with the desires of those in power, the more peaceful society will be.

 

It means... at least I feel peaceful.

 

Nobody likes people who are different from themselves. Deep down, humans appreciate and have more faith in themselves than we realise.

 

October 31st is one of the most exciting nights for young people in the city. Van thinks it's strangely creative how Thais embrace cultures from other countries without much thought. It's like, whatever's cool or trendy, go for it! That's why our country has a wonderfully artistic blend of Thai, Chinese, Western, and other cultures, providing fun year-round without getting bored. Tonight is no different. Some might head straight home and collapse into bed after work (or school), but many spend hours dressing up as celebrities, important figures, or their favourite characters from movies or cartoons. Although, realistically, everyone should be dressing up as ghosts tonight. But seriously, how many types of ghosts are there in the world? Besides, if it's not tonight, when will they get another chance to dress up as Spider-Man and walk around outside?

 

Like most bars and pubs across Bangkok, Club Iga is also having a Halloween party tonight. The whole family has been helping decorate the club since morning. Van even got a chance to show off his impressive skills with (fake) blood splattering, but unfortunately, he had to leave for a prior job. Therefore, he didn't get to see whether the final result was a truly terrifying and spooky party, or just a kindergarten-level Halloween party.

 

"When you go in, I think you should cover your face," Nim said. She looked worried and a little embarrassed.

 

"Why is it closed?" Van asked, savouring the matcha ice cream from a famous shop that his female customer had offered to treat him to. He walked slower than usual because Thale had told him that walking faster than his date was rude.

 

"For safety"

 

"Was your ex-boyfriend really that jealous?"

 

"It's more accurate to call it jealousy," Nim sighed. She had been cheerful and bright all day until she remembered she had to pick up something from her ex-boyfriend's condo. Her face was heavily made up, her skin pale, her eyebrows thick and straight, and her eyes adorned with rainbow-colored contact lenses because she had just returned from a cosplay event. She still looked like Koma (from Demon Slayer), only in a demon-themed tracksuit version. Nim changed her clothes before leaving the event because she said she didn't want to look silly in her ex's eyes anymore. Van didn't object, although deep down he thought changing clothes with such heavy makeup didn't make much difference. "He doesn't love me anymore. But if I bring you into his room, he'll definitely be furious. And if he recognises you, he'll harass me relentlessly."

 

"Oh..." Van nodded slowly. "I thought he couldn't stand seeing people who were better looking than him."

 

Nim glanced at Van, about to say something, but when she saw Van calmly biting into an ice cream cone, she changed her mind. She understood that Van wasn't joking.

 

"Or are you saying I'm ugly?" Van asked when Nim didn't answer.

 

“No, you’re really handsome,” Nim replied softly as they turned the corner into the luxury condo. The security guard saluted Nim with a friendly smile. “But… don’t get angry if we say something, okay?”

 

"I rarely get angry at people. Usually, it's other people who get angry when I speak."

 

"Your face is so annoying, I'm afraid my ex will kick you in the face."

 

Van felt a sudden rush of heat to the back of his neck the entire time he was in the condo. Nim's ex-boyfriend didn't speak a word to him, instead using his eyes to mask his true nature. He didn't seem as intimidating as Van had imagined. Nim had described her ex-boyfriend as a ruthless gangster, but in person, Van thought he looked like an ordinary Chinese man.

 

"He thought he'd have better taste," his ex said calmly. The other person spoke softly, but Van felt like someone had deliberately bumped into his shoulder. "You broke up with him for that Spider-Man?"

 

This time it wasn't just a bump on the shoulder. Van felt like he'd just been kicked in the face, but he chose to stand there silently, hugging Nim's treasure chest. The deliberately insulting act didn't really anger Van. In fact, it seemed fair enough. Think about it: an ex-girlfriend coming to pick up things from the apartment with her new boyfriend wearing a Spider-Man mask. For Van, it was funny, but for Nim's ex-boyfriend... not so much.

 

"You talk like he's the one who broke up with me," Nim replied coldly. She paced around the room, searching for her remaining belongings, with Van following softly behind her, carrying a box.

 

"He sounded like he really wanted to break up."

 

"It sounds like he's forcing himself to say it."

 

"Maybe so. Just look at how you're behaving."

 

An awkward silence enveloped Van, making him feel as if he were drowning. Luckily, he was wearing his Spider-Man mask so that others couldn't see his disgusted expression. Nim paced around the room, with her ex-boyfriend following closely behind. Now they were like two ducklings following each other – the mother duck set off, the second duckling put on its mask, and the third duckling wanted to punch the masked one.

 

"What's wrong with him?" Nim suddenly turned sharply towards Van. Van flinched slightly before realising the other person wasn't talking to him, so he stepped aside to let the two confront each other without him getting in the way.

 

"Can he speak?"

 

"Go ahead and say it. You've said worse things than this before, haven't you?"

 

Once again, the silence made Van afraid to breathe. He feared that even the slightest sound of his own breathing would cause one of their estranged partners to explode before he could safely leave this room of memories.

 

"Don't act as if you've never said anything nasty before," the young man said, his face turning red. He crossed his arms and glared at the girl, clearly determined to win the argument.

 

"I've probably said this before. If you don't like it, I apologise," Nim said defiantly, lifting her chin. "Here it is. Okay now?"

 

"A 'sorry,' like, 'Okay, I'll apologise then?'"

 

"Why? There's the word 'sorry,' isn't there? Does someone who's only ever said 'sorry,' without even actually saying it, have the right to be so demanding?"

 

Van stood, watching the ex-couple exchange sarcastic remarks, unsure what to do. He began to regret taking on this responsibility for Taengmo because of the rare T-shirt. He wasn't suited for this kind of thing. Van thought he should have spent his time doing what he was good at and saving up to buy that shirt himself instead of standing around watching the couple argue.

 

"So you're all cocky now that you have a new boyfriend, huh?" His ex-boyfriend smirked, still not even glancing at Van, acting as if this Spider-Man didn't exist. "So you went crazy with those idiots, huh?"

 

The young man's words were anything but pleasant to hear, but Van could already guess why the two had broken up. In fact, the way the young man sighed when he saw her face was clear enough. He was clearly displeased with his girlfriend's interests, and seemed even humiliated. Van wondered to himself, "Why bother dating an otaku in the first place?"

 

“If so, then what?” Nim retorted, tossing the small Akasa doll into the box Van was holding without even turning around. “You never liked him the way he was, did you? You couldn’t stand it and broke up with him, and that was right. He didn’t say anything. So what do you want from him now? He just went on a date with someone he’s not ashamed to be around. What did he do wrong?”

 

For the first time, his ex-girlfriend's gaze met his. Van stood motionless, his eyes behind the mask glancing at the ceiling to avoid eye contact. It was clear that Nim's ex wasn't looking at Van with admiration; in fact, Van thought the other person was silently saying, "How can he be embarrassed? Look at his condition."

 

Seriously, Van wondered if he was really that embarrassing. He wasn't even wearing a body-hugging suit like a real Spider-Man. A hoodie, jeans, and sneakers—just a normal outfit. He just wore a mask to cover his face and hair. It wasn't like he was wearing a black balaclava or anything. Yeah, it looked like one, but it was Spider-Man, Peter Parker, after all.

 

"He didn't say he was embarrassed."

 

“But I told you not to talk about anime when we're out, not to call me over to cosplay events. We've been together for two years, and you've never taken a single picture with me at a cosplay event! Not a single one!” This was probably the loudest Nim had ever spoken since Van met her (which was only a few hours ago). She was yelling so hard that the veins in her temples bulged, and her face turned red like a heated iron. It was unbelievable in Van's eyes, because throughout the day they'd been together, she was nothing more than a Teletubby. “If I show off my merchandise, you call me stupid, you complain about wasting money, even though it's all my money. Have I ever asked you for a single penny, seriously?”

 

"Well, no.

 

"So what's it to you?"

 

Van was wondering when he could subtly sneak out of the room without being noticed. He felt invisible, yet at the same time, too conspicuous (perhaps because of the red mask). He'd agreed with Nim not to say anything when they entered the room, and he'd kept his word, which made him seem like the odd one out. But if he were to open his mouth, he wasn't sure what to say in this situation. "Calm down," he thought. That would probably only irritate them more.

 

"I'm sorry." After a moment of silence, the ex-boyfriend's hot-headedness suddenly softened. "It's my fault for having a problem with my own interests. I was embarrassed about something trivial. Maybe... maybe I was just annoyed that so many people liked you because you're good at cosplay. After all, you're pretty. Maybe I was just... jealous."

 

Nim fell silent, and suddenly Van sensed a change in the atmosphere. It was still awkward, but not like when his head was being held underwater before. Now, he felt like a love scene was unfolding while watching a movie with his parents—like he wanted to pretend to drop something or suddenly get up and go to the bathroom.

 

"Is it really necessary to say things that hurt my feelings when you're jealous?" Nim said softly, her face still flushed, but Van guessed it was red from something other than anger.

 

"im sorry. I was being mean. Can we talk things out again?"

 

Van timed watching them hug for about a minute and a half before Nim turned to him, her face showing embarrassment, and said, "You can go now. We'll handle the rest." Van was unsure at first, his heart already racing as he headed out the door to wait outside. But his brain kept insisting that it would really be alright if he left Nim with her ex-boyfriend, the one she'd been telling him all day was crazy.

 

"It's okay, Ton won't hurt us. He's actually kind."

 

That's not what I've been hearing all day.

 

"I'll pay the same price. Let's go home. Don't worry."

 

But it's okay, I'll pay the same price, and the landlord has kicked me out. If I'm still stubborn and refuse to leave, they'll probably call security to drag me out. So Van hung up. He dropped the box on the floor, waved quickly, and left the room.

 

Van shuffled to the elevator, pressed the down button, pulled his suit jacket over his head, and stood there with his hands in his pockets, wondering if he should dress up as Spider-Man tonight or ask Mimi to help him find a better costume. Van didn't want to be given disapproving looks, like, "That's all you're wearing for Halloween?" even though he knew there was always someone in the house who wouldn't dress up.

 

The elevator reached his floor and opened. Van was about to step in, but he hesitated, realising he didn't have a key card, which meant he couldn't operate the elevator. Van stepped back, thinking he'd go back and knock on Nim's door to ask her to use her key card. Suddenly, someone walked past him and into the elevator.

 

Van followed the neighbour into the elevator, relieved that he didn't have to go back and knock on the door of the apartment where time stood still for that volatile couple. Van followed Nim's neighbour down, who didn't seem to notice at all. He kept his head down, engrossed in his mobile phone.

 

Van stood with his hands in his pockets, watching the numbers on the elevator slowly descend. Now it was eighteen, and the young resident began talking on the phone.

 

“Okay, I know. Just text me,” he whispered, as if he was being considerate of Van, or perhaps embarrassed because the voice on the other end of the line was so loud it cut through the silence in the elevator. Van could hear it clearly without even trying to eavesdrop. “Buy some condoms too. I forgot.” That sentence wouldn't have been so embarrassing if the young man from a wealthy family wasn't banging his head against the elevator wall like he was doing now. “Just a sec. That's your room. What are you so scared of? I'm going down to the convenience store in ten minutes.”

 

No matter how much he didn't want to hear it, the cramped space inside the room where only the two of them were present wouldn't allow Van to do so. The frantic voice on the other end of the line kept coming through, making Van wonder what that person was so afraid of in their room. Did they have a giant spider or a cockroach? If it were anything like that, it would be creepy.

 

While Van was talking to himself, the elevator suddenly stopped. It didn't stop to pick up more passengers, because he felt a slight jolt before it came to a complete stop. The elevator lights went out quickly, as did the floor number display.

 

Van cursed inwardly. He glanced at his fellow victim beside him, who looked up with a panicked expression before turning back to him.

 

"It's... Aah!"

 

And then screamed in the elevator

 

My ears almost burst.

 

"Calm down," Van raised his hand to stop the young condo resident who was about to melt himself into the elevator wall. He looked about the same size as Van, but his powerful, high-pitched voice was impressive. "I'm a person, a person."

 

Van quickly tried to explain himself before turning on the flashlight on his phone to shine on his face. The owner of the destructive voice flinched again, perhaps because Van was shining the light from a low angle, making the Spider-Man mask look less cool. But seeing that he didn't look like someone about to commit murder, the timid young man slowly breathed a sigh of relief (but still seemed a little afraid of Van). It seemed he hadn't noticed Van from the start, not realising Van was wearing a mask until they looked up at each other because the elevator was stuck.

 

"What's wrong with the elevator?" Although he seemed puzzled about taking the elevator with Spider-Man, that wasn't the most important thing right now. The young man asked Van in a trembling voice.

 

“I don’t know,” Van answered honestly. He knew a little about mechanics and electricity, but he wasn’t an expert. And even if he did happen to be an expert, how could he fix the elevator while trapped inside with his bare hands? He just wore a superhero mask; he wasn’t a real hero. “Maybe the power went out.”

 

"So what should I do..."

 

Van didn't answer. He walked over to the control panel and pressed the phone icon, trying to contact someone outside, but there was no response.

 

"What the hell..." Van muttered before turning to the actual resident standing stiffly behind him. "Do you have the condo management's phone number?"

 

"There's...there's Line."

 

"Please call."

 

“Oh… okay,” the young resident hurriedly scrolled through his phone, his hands trembling, trying to find the condo management company's name. He seemed about to drop the phone several times, missing every attempt to dial. Van couldn't stand watching anymore, so he snatched the phone from the timid young man and made the call himself.

 

"Hello, is this the building management?" Van said into the phone. "I'm stuck in the elevator. I'm not sure if the power's out outside. Could you come and check? There are two of us... probably around the tenth floor."

 

Van handed the phone back to its owner after speaking with the building management. The other person took it, their hands still trembling, and even though there wasn't much light in the elevator, Van could tell the young resident's face was as pale as a boiled chicken.

 

"The power is out outside. The building management will call a technician right away."

 

"How much longer...?" he asked in a short, faint, and trembling voice, as if he were breathing in only half a lung at a time.

 

I don't know. They just said they'd hurry.

 

"I don't want to stay...in here...for long."

 

“Really? That’s weird. I really want to,” Van said, drawn out, leaning against the side wall of the elevator. The other person’s awkwardness and pointless words irritated him a little. Van knew this coward hadn’t done anything wrong, but he thought he himself wasn’t wrong to dislike overly excited people either.

 

The young man didn't say anything more. He lowered his head, typing furiously on his phone. It was obvious he was complaining to his girlfriend, who was probably just as timid. It was funny to think that if they were both utterly cowards, who would protect whom in a critical moment? Or would they hold hands and scream together? Interesting.

 

“Hello,” followed by a whining voice. The young man, a homeowner, started complaining to his girlfriend, repeating the same incident over and over (it was just getting stuck in an elevator; what else could there be to explain?). He went on and on about his fears, making Van wonder if he should call someone too. But who should he call? His aunt? And then what? Calling the people back home wouldn't help; at best, they'd just come up with silly excuses that would probably make things more irritating. “What should I do… I’m scared. I don’t know when the technician will come. I… Hello… You… You!”

 

The whiny one tried calling several more times, but it seemed impossible to reach her boyfriend again. Now they had to stand side by side in silence, the flashlights from their cell phones making it slightly less eerie. And because it was so quiet, Van could feel the other person's breathing quicken.

 

"Are you trying to steal my air?" Van asked calmly. The young man from the neighbourhood didn't answer but slowly crouched down. "Breathe slowly. There's not much air in here."

 

“I…” He seemed to be trying to say something, but could only utter the subject of the sentence. His breathing became increasingly rapid, his shoulders visibly heaving up and down, making Van, who had initially been slightly annoyed, now feel a sense of unease as well. “I’m sorry… I…”

 

"Alright," Van muttered to himself resignedly, before kneeling in front of the young man and placing his hands on the other's shoulders. "Calm down. Breathe slowly. Don't panic."

 

"Trying...trying," he said, but he didn't seem to calm down at all. On the contrary, he looked more and more panicked, to the point that Van thought he might have a seizure or lose consciousness in a few minutes. "It...can't stop...it won't stop."

 

"Have you ever experienced a panic attack?"

 

No...no."

 

"Are you claustrophobic?" He didn't answer, but judging from his trembling eyes, there was no need to investigate further. Being locked in an elevator for so long, not knowing when he would get out, was triggering his fear. "Okay, then, follow my instructions."

 

Van took the other person's hands, clasped them together as if cupping water, and then covered the frightened young man's mouth with them.

 

"Put it loosely over your head, don't tighten it," Van said calmly. "Now breathe slowly. Breathe with me. In... out... in... out..."

 

The timid young man obediently followed. He looked at Van's face, slowly adjusting his breathing to match Van's speech.

 

"It's alright. Someone is coming to help you so you won't be stuck in here alone. I'm here too. They'll be here soon, and we'll get out together."

 

As if by magic, the young person's panic gradually subsided after he managed to control his breathing for a moment. Van gently squeezed the other's shoulder to help him relax.

 

"Don't leave me," he said curtly.

 

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't," Van shrugged. "Do you think I'm really Spider-Man?"

 

"Can you breathe with that mask on?"

 

"Yes.

 

“But wouldn't it be more comfortable if you took it off?”

 

"No way, this is cooler."

 

"Okay, but don't faint. I don't want to be alone."

 

"Thanks for worrying about me," Van said sarcastically, before settling down beside him, leaning back against the wall and slowly taking a deep breath. He'd gotten a little too excited just now.

 

"Why are you wearing that Spider-Man mask?" he asked, his voice sounding a little better, and Van thought he should try to be friendly with the guy to avoid being a jerk.

 

I'm afraid the symptoms might recur.

 

"I brought a girl to pick up something from her ex-boyfriend's room."

 

"His ex-boyfriend liked... Spider-Man?"

 

“Yes, and I liked him, so I dressed up as Spider-Man to flirt with him.” The young man froze, his eyes widening twice as much. Besides being a coward, he was probably the type to believe everything strangers said, including someone wearing a Spider-Man mask. “I was being sarcastic. Don’t faint!”

 

"Almost there," the young man sighed heavily.

 

"She was afraid her ex-boyfriend would come looking for trouble, so she asked me to cover my face when we met."

 

"Wouldn't just removing the regular mask be enough?"

 

"You can tell if someone is good-looking just by looking into their eyes."

 

The young man fell silent again, but this time he didn't seem surprised; instead, he was shocked and incredulous.

 

"Besides, my hair colour is so distinctive, it's too memorable," Van continued.

 

“What colour is your hair?”

 

"The rainbow is like a pony's path."

 

"It's probably easy to remember," the young resident chuckled dryly, still unsure of what he was dealing with. Which was more worrying: being stuck in an elevator or being stuck in an elevator with a rainbow-haired Spider-Man? And are you leaving already?"

 

"Alone?"

 

Van nodded.

 

“Oh, and the girl…” The young man’s voice trailed off as he realised that might not be the point of the question. Two people came, but he left alone. And this was his ex-girlfriend’s room. Almost certainly, it was bad news for this young Spider-Man. 

 

“Sorry…”

 

“Sorry about that, I’m perfectly fine,” Van said casually, stretching his legs out as if he were starting to get used to chatting with strangers in this dark elevator. “I’m even glad to get home early.”

 

"You don't regret it?"

 

"About what"

 

"In the end, she went back to his ex-boyfriend."

 

“I don’t care,” Van shrugged indifferently. “As long as I get the same money, either way is fine.”

 

Silence fell over the area. The young man was confused by Van's answer, but didn't think they were in a position to question him further. He could only try to figure out in his mind why this strange young man had brought up money when talking about the girl who had just left him. Unfortunately, none of his answers seemed plausible.

 

"Reception not running at all," Van muttered. He tried to text his friends back home, but the messages wouldn't go through.

 

"Mine too," the young resident said softly, trying to send a similar message. "They said the power's out outside, right?"

 

"Yeah, the power went out throughout the whole building."

 

"I'm sure I'll cry."

 

"Ha?"

 

"I mean the person in the room," he implied that the other person was referring to their boyfriend/girlfriend who had just spoken on the phone. "It's getting dark too."

 

"At least if you have a phone, you can turn on the flash."

 

"It's still scary," the young man muttered, more to himself than to Van. "Even in broad daylight, it's terrifying."

 

Van wasn't sure what to say. He didn't even know what his fellow elevator user was talking about. All he knew was that he and his girlfriend were probably both incredibly cowardly. You could say Van judged people by their appearance, but judging by the young man's looks, he didn't seem like a coward at all. He looked like a decent guy, a real man.

 

"They're still not here?" Almost ten minutes passed, and there was still no sign of anyone coming to help. The young man's voice sounded anxious again. "This is taking too long."

 

“He’s probably working on it,” Van replied. He was starting to feel uncomfortable too. It was hot, dark, and the air was thinning, but he thought there was no reason to panic. That would only make things worse. “We’ll get out, don’t worry.”

 

"...It's easy for someone who's been abandoned to say that," the young man said softly. But he may have forgotten that they were sitting only a cubit apart, and this was a small, rectangular box containing just the two of them. Van could almost hear his stomach rumbling.

 

"What does that have to do with anything?" Van wondered. "If you're late, are you going to get dumped by your girlfriend?"

 

"Maybe."

 

“What?” Van exclaimed, his voice rising. He had hoped the other person was joking, but judging from the irritated tone and the tearful expression, it seemed serious. “Is this really enough to break up?”

 

The young man sat silently, head down, repeatedly sending the message, even though he knew it wouldn't be delivered anytime soon.

 

"If she's going to break up with you after we go out, then so be it. What's the point of keeping her around?" Van said irritably. Seeing the dejected expression on the person next to him made him want to scream. He couldn't understand either the idiotic girlfriend outside or this cowardly guy at all. Or maybe this is what they say, that like attracts like? This is clearly a case of rotten corpse in a coffin. "Who wants to sit around in an elevator for ages? It's an elevator, not a private spa! Don't think you're here to relax!"

 

The young resident sighed heavily.

 

"You don't understand."

 

"To be criticised, you'd be crazy to understand."

 

"If you don't understand, don't speak."

 

"Sorry, it's too late. If it's already in their ears, they'll have to speak up," Van said, completely disregarding the other person's displeased tone. As I said, it was very normal for other people to be unhappy with him. "Besides, you insulted me first."

 

"When did I ever insult you?" The young man turned to look Van directly in the face for the first time. Van himself had only just seen the other man's face properly. He was a good-looking man, ordinary-looking but alright. It was a shame his personality was rather irritating.

 

"You said I was dumped."

 

"I'm not saying anything. You really were dumped, weren't you?"

 

"Then why apologise in the first place?"

 

"According to etiquette"

 

"Oh, where have your manners gone now?" Van said sarcastically.

 

"Gone with your manners," the young man retorted bluntly. Although his thoughts were annoying, Van found him much more endearing when he tried to argue. "You know nothing about my girlfriend and me. What right do you have to tell us to break up?"

 

"Didn't you say she was going to break up with you?"

 

“I just said maybe.”

 

"So I said, 'If she says she wants to break up, then break up.'"

 

"Why should I listen to you?"

 

“I’m not saying you have to listen. I’m just giving you advice. If you follow it, that’s good. If you don’t, that’s up to you. If you want to stay with someone who broke up with you because you got stuck in an elevator, who’s going to say anything? Some people’s standards are just too much to describe. It’s understandable.” Van gestured with both hands and shrugged lightly, indicating he didn’t care at all. Meanwhile, the young man frowned so hard his eyebrows almost formed a bow. He couldn’t believe this man was both the one who saved his life and the one he wanted to slit his throat at the same time.

 

"I'm starting to understand why that girl went back to her ex."

 

"Because he has strange tastes, just like you."

 

"Oh, would anyone be that weird..."

 

Before the young man could react, the elevator lights suddenly switched on, the display screen came back on, and then they felt the elevator move. The elevator slowly descended, heading towards the floor they had initially been holding down. Van and the young resident looked at each other in confusion, unsure what to do. Should they quickly press the button for the nearest floor, or was it safe to continue to their target floor?

 

"Is everything okay?" the young resident asked, his eyes still uncertainly fixed on the floor number display on the screen. "Should we leave soon?"

 

"It looks normal," Van replied.

 

"What if it gets stuck again?"

 

"This is the fourth floor."

 

"So what? Can't it get stuck on the fourth floor?"

 

"three"

 

"Ha?"

 

"Two"

 

The timid young man glared at Van, ready to open his mouth to curse.

 

"One"

 

And the elevator door opened.

 

Their conversation ended there. A female condo management representative rushed over to them both, looking worried. She flinched slightly when she saw the man in the Spider-Man mask. Van didn't say anything, just waved his hand lightly to indicate that everything was alright, and then walked out of the condo.

 

The female property management representative turned to speak with her actual resident, expressing concern and apologising as part of her duty. The young resident didn't hold a grudge, smiling politely and answering questions about what had happened in the elevator. However, his eyes still lingered on the young man, a lingering guilt he knew would never be resolved.

 

The Halloween party at the club wasn't as lively as expected. Perhaps it wasn't the kind of club where people in costumes dance to loud music. Most customers preferred a quieter atmosphere and enjoyed drinking. Therefore, there weren't many people in themed costumes, and nobody was dressed up as elaborately as those at the popular clubs in the city centre. They were probably the ones who went all out.

 

In the end, Van decided to dress up as Spider-Man because there wasn't enough time to find another costume. In fact, he wore the same one he wore when he got stuck in the elevator at Nim's condo. Taengmo dressed as The Creature from Frankenstein (the Guillermo del Toro version) because he's tall and big—Yo-Ye dressed as Steve Harrington from Stranger Things (Taengmo insisted it wasn't even remotely similar). Mimi dressed as Lucy Grey Baird from The Hunger Games (she had sewn the rainbow skirt herself two weeks prior). Ne dressed as the heroine from *Ten Rules of the Wild Heart* (Van thought she had a similar personality and physique to Cad Stratford, and this style suited her well). Talay dressed as Santi from *War on the Run* (which made him look a lot like his father). As for Pa, she dressed as if she didn't want to participate in Halloween at all (she didn't dress up).

 

They started partying (and helping out at the club) from early evening, drinking heavily according to each person's alcohol tolerance. Mimi was beaming more than usual because the long, big project had finally come to a successful conclusion. She received a large sum of money as compensation for her sweat and tears, and it would become the tenth pillar of her future karate school.

 

As night fell and Van's breath picked up the pungent smell of alcohol, he began recounting the story of the stuck elevator and the cowardly young man from the house to his housemates. Taengmo laughed, tears streaming down his face, the makeup around his eyes and cheekbones smudged as he wiped them away. Nae, the makeup artist, made a big fuss. Talay laughed along but still asked questions, clearly concerned. Mimi looked annoyed and kept asking about the elevator. Nae scolded Van for making fun of the young man from the house, while Patee quietly sipped his fruit juice. Van wasn't even sure if Patee was listening.

 

"You've never even had a boyfriend yourself, and you dare to try and teach him?" Linda said, placing a basket of oranges in the middle of the table. It was a special item not on the menu, but served on-site because the landlady had bought them several days ago and was afraid they would spoil.

 

Nae picked up a fruit, peeled it skillfully, then cut it in half and handed one half to Mimi.

 

"Even living people sit around telling ghost stories as if they were real," Van said, picking up an orange to peel. His orange peel came in small pieces, not in nice strips like the other ones, but at least he got to eat it. Van was about to break the orange open when he noticed Patee hesitating whether to pick up an orange like everyone else. Before Patee could reach the basket, the peeled orange in Van's hand was slapped into his. Van then picked up a new orange to peel without saying anything. He didn't even look at Patee, and continued chattering non-stop, "Some people know everything as if they've been through it all."

 

"Is it a belief?" Talay said casually. He didn't eat oranges. Their older brother didn't like sour fruit; even a slight tartness was enough to make him refuse. Therefore, he just sat and watched others eat.

 

"But he likes to say he really saw it," Van said.

 

"Because he believed he saw it."

 

"So that means you didn't actually see it, right?"

 

"Maybe it's true," Talay shrugged.

 

"Evidence?"

 

"What's the belief?"

 

"Are you okay, P'Le? Are you a Bodyslam fan?" Van frowned, chewing on an orange and grumbling in annoyance. The gang burst into laughter; even Patee smiled slightly from the corner of his mouth... probably because he knows Bodyslam, so he understood the joke.

 

"You have to open your mind sometimes, Van," Taengmo said, chuckling. "Just because you haven't seen something doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

 

"Because I've never seen it, that's why I don't believe it," Van argued. "If you want me to believe it, then show your face."

 

"Don't... you idiot!" Nae kicked Van's arm, making him sway. "Just keep your mouth shut and don't babble so much."

 

"Auntie! That boy physically assaulted me!" Instead of arguing, Van yelled and complained to her aunt, her voice echoing throughout the house.

 

Linda, who was about to go outside to smoke, stepped back and said to the silver-haired kid with a bored expression, "Just a little nudge with your foot, don't be a jerk."

 

"Oh, stop being such a drama queen," Nae whispered, joining in. Mimi, sitting next to her, laughed but secretly slapped Nae's shoulder lightly.

 

"I'm hurt! That's against the rules! A dunk penalty!" Van yelled.

 

"Stop yelling, and I'll send you to clean up the customers' vomit," Linda said, and then walked out the back door of the shop.

 

"Auntie must hate me," Van grumbled, not getting the attention he wanted. "This house is unfair."

 

"Justice will prevail when the madness stops," Nae said, lightly pushing Van's head before pulling Mimi's arm and leading her away. Little Lucy started swaying back and forth after trying every drink the beach had offered. Van watched the rom-com heroine, grimacing and muttering curses under her breath in annoyance.

 

"Goodnight, you losers," Mimi drawled, waving goodbye as Nae dragged her towards the red door. Nae didn't wish them goodnight as Mimi did, but she waved dismissively anyway, not wanting Mimi to think she was being overly friendly.

 

"Good night," Talay replied. He got up as if to go back to his room. "I'm going too. I have a date tomorrow."

 

"Are you going on a date every day, P'Le?" Taengmo said, his hand sweeping orange peel scraps into a small trash can he'd pulled from under the table.

 

"Because he hired her," Talay shrugged.

 

"Why don't you become a host?" Taengmo said.

 

"A style like yours would probably sell well," Van added in agreement, his eyes fixed on his phone screen, his thumb scrolling through it. If it wasn't news from the robotics world, it was probably about his favourite anime. Van was only interested in a few things. "Being a host is definitely more lucrative than drawing, right?"

 

Watermelon looked bewildered. Sea sighed. Red Mot slapped Van on the head, making him fall face-first, but the punished one was completely unaware of why he'd been slapped. Van frowned and looked at him.

 

"I'm not as flashy as those hosts," Talay replied casually. Actually, he didn't care much about Van's words. He couldn't deny that what the money-headed guy said was true; otherwise, why would he take a job at the Crow Club? "My body isn't sexy, I can't drink well, who's going to buy me drinks?"

 

white"

 

"You're not good?" Van glared at the sea, annoyed by his irritating humility. "If I was born from a bamboo shoot, then you were born from a liquor bottle."

 

"I just like alcohol; that doesn't mean I'm a good drinker," Talay replied drawn-outly. 

 

"Hosts have to have a high tolerance for alcohol. Some drink hundreds a night. I couldn't handle it."

 

"But suddenly, you're wearing a gold frame!" Taengmo giggled, amused by his own joke.

 

[ Taengmo translates to watermelon, and Talay translates to Sea] 

 

"Embed the diamonds," Van replied, joining in. Talay looked at the two idiots with exasperation before grabbing their round heads and bumping them together until they cried out in pain.

 

"I just go on dates; I never sleep with clients," Talay said.

 

"Swear?" Watermelon raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously.

 

"Unless he's off-camera, my secret room doesn't require a dunk."

 

"Outstanding"

 

Watermelon and Sea bumped fists before Sea went back up to his room.

 

“Are you going to bed yet?” Van asked Taengmo. The Creeper downed his glass of liquor in one gulp, slammed the glass down on the table, and nodded slightly.

 

"I have work in the morning as well."

 

"Then hurry up and go check on Yo, and then go to bed."

 

“Huh?” Taengmo seemed to snap out of it in a split second. He glared at Van disapprovingly. If his skin wasn't coated in latex (or silicone) and the makeup effects, Van could now see a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Why are you looking at it?"

 

"I saw him go out to talk on the phone a while ago," Van replied casually. "He was eating and using it just now. I saw him staggering around."

 

"So?"

 

"Well, then what? If you're not going to go see it, I'll go see it myself."

 

Watermelon remained silent. Van looked at his tsundere friend with admiration, not because of the chaos he had awakened, but because he could still perceive the complex mass of feelings in Watermelon's expression, even though that face seemed as stiff as a statue.

 

"If he's lying dead behind the shop, I'll text you," Frankenstein rattled off, then got up from the table and left. Van laughed heartily. He'd never met anyone who could hide their feelings as badly as Taengmo. Even he, who was called emotionally numb and heartless, could tell that the embers of their past hadn't completely died out.

 

"Aren't you going up to your room?" Van asked after sitting in silence for about ten minutes. He remained motionless, glued to his phone screen, his fingers moving rapidly as he typed insults at some internet idiots (it was a small job he'd taken on for a week). It seemed like he was the only one sitting there alone, but he wasn't. Someone else had been sitting with Van the whole time—someone who didn't have a mouth to speak.

 

"Not yet," Patee replied. He was looking at something on his phone too. His voice was listless and lifeless, the kind that was boring to listen to. Van thought the only time Patee was interesting was when he sang and played the guitar.

 

"Aren't you playing tonight?"

 

"We're playing," Patee replied, "very late at night."

 

“Last one up?”

 

"Rumour"

 

Then there was a long silence. Van and Patee's conversations were always like this. They'd exchange a few sentences about one topic, then pause for a moment of silence before starting a new subject. It might sound awkward, but surprisingly, it didn't affect either of them. Van found Patee boring, yet, statistically, he was the club member who talked to him most often; conversely, Patee talked to Van the most (though "a lot" for Patee was very little for most people), even though he considered Van eccentric.

 

"Okay, I'll keep sitting here," Van said, still glued to his phone. "But could you sing the Naruto song for me one more time? Promise me it'll be the last time this week."

 

"Mm-hmm," Patee replied, his eyes still fixed on his mobile phone.

 

The following week, on a day with early-morning rain, the sun didn't get a chance to rise fully, even though it was already late morning. Van had no work that day, but he had to wake up at nine o'clock because of the noise from the next room. It turned out Mimi had adopted a chick. Watermelon was complaining because the chick had pooped on his athletic shoes, and Nae scolded Him for it.

 

Annoyed by the situation, they both brought the chick to sit and cry at the foot of Van's bed. That was the bright and cheerful story of a weekend morning.

 

Talay isn't home. Linda says her boyfriend hasn't been home since last night. She guesses he's probably staying at a girl's place again, as usual. Patee is out at work. Lately, he's been taking on a job patrolling abandoned houses every early morning, and strangely, he doesn't stop even when it's raining.

 

Van ate his meal in his room. He was too lazy to go downstairs, so he just made some instant noodles and didn't forget to make some for the young woman who was sitting and chatting with her chicks.

 

"Auntie doesn't let me keep pets," Van replied, slurping a big gulp of instant noodles. He chewed heartily and continued, "If you catch them, she'll tell you to throw them away."

 

"How could you throw it away!" Mimi yelled, covering her ears (chicks don't have external ears, but ear holes on the sides of their heads) so the little one sleeping on the small cloth on the dining table wouldn't hear. "It has feelings! How would you feel if your parents threw you away?"

 

"I don't know. They never left me. They only ever kicked me out of the house."

 

"That's it," the chick's foster mother said softly. "Are you sad?"

 

"It's alright, I'm grown up now. I'll have to move out and live on my own someday."

 

"But the chick is still so small. A tiny baby chick is sleeping in her hand. She looked at it with extreme pity. 'It can't even take care of itself, and you're telling me to throw it away?'"

 

"Even if you named it 'Born', it probably wanted to stay with you," Van said with his mouth full of noodles. "And I didn't tell you to throw it away. I said that if Fah knew, she would tell you to throw it away."

 

"So what am I supposed to do? I can't leave him outside all alone."

 

You can give it to others and sell it.

 

"Who are you selling to?"

 

"What about the ones at school?" Van replied, referring to the karate school Mimi attended. "Give them to someone, someone who lives at home, not in the dorms."

 

"Nobody wants it," Mimi said, looking at Van with a pleading expression.

 

“Doesn't anyone like animals?”

 

"Some people like animals, but nobody likes me."

 

"Oh...my little one," Van reached out and patted Mimi's shoulder sympathetically.

 

"Don't feel sorry for me. Other people don't like you either."

 

"I already have very few friends. Do you want to subtract one, you little brat?"

 

Mimi giggled, gently stroking the little nugget's head. She was gentle and kind at heart; everyone in the house knew it. But to outsiders, she was a pretentious harlot. The men liked her because of her pretty face, while the women often looked at her with a "women can see through you" attitude. Van didn't know what that meant, only that many of them weren't actually that perceptive.

 

The familiar sound of Van's cell phone buzzing echoed. He lifted the bowl and took another sip of the sodium-heavy soup before checking the latest notification. He found it was from an account from Madame Linda

 

After finishing eating, come down to the office.

 

Dress well too.

 

No more than 15 minutes

 

"Work?" Mimi asked, seeing Van staring at the screen and sighing.

 

"Okay, I'll take a quick shower," Van replied, getting up to put the bowl of instant noodles in the sink, grabbing a towel, and walking into the bathroom.

 

"I'm going out for a bit. Can you look after the baby in your room?" the baby's mother shouted to the room's occupant who was in the bathroom.

 

“Okay!” Van shouted back. “I was just craving spicy chickpea soup!”

 

"Boil your mother, you old hag!"

 

Twelve minutes later, Van stood in front of the office, or what Linda called his study. His hair was still a bit messy because he hadn't had time to blow-dry it. He had just washed his face, brushed his teeth, showered, changed into clothes that didn't look like pyjamas, and come down as ordered by Madame. Of course, being even a minute late could result in a lengthy reprimand.

 

Van knocked on the door three times (Linda didn't like it any more than that). An unusually kind voice, rarely heard whenever a customer arrived, came from inside: "Welcome," in Cathay.

 

Van entered after receiving permission, making eye contact with Linda, who sat at her desk, or what they liked to call the Empress's throne. Linda gave him a knowing smile. Van returned a genuinely friendly grin. Opposite Linda was likely a client, judging from the back of his head; he was probably a man around Van's age. He jokingly speculated that this man might be hiring him to test his girlfriend's loyalty or something similar. His hair colour and clothing were already boring; this person was unlikely to hire him for anything more bizarre.

 

"Here he is. This is the perfect person for the job," Linda said confidently.

 

The young man who had come to hire the woman turned to look at Van standing in the doorway. He felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw the other man's face clearly.

 

"Hello"

 

Although this room was brighter than the condo elevator, Van vividly remembered his ordinary face and cowardly eyes. Of course, Van remembered him.

 

"I love you."

 

But this doesn't seem like the kind of thing people would say to each other for the first time, does it?