“I’m going to grab extra blankets from upstairs. Hold up the fort for me.” I say to Aiko, leaving from behind the bar.
“May I help?” Mei persists. Aiko and I both look at her with intriguing expressions. “It’s the least I can do.”
‘Yep. She’s definitely a “good girl”.’ I confirm to myself. ‘She’s probably dependable in everything she does.’
“Sure. I could use the extra hands.” Her face lighting up, she quickly follows me upstairs, to my apartment.
My place is 1200 square feet. Same as the bar. I have three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a pretty spacious kitchen and living room. When I told the landlord I wanted both spaces, I was able to make a deal so I only have to pay one rent instead of two separate rents. All I have to do is give him 5% of my profit every month. Which is quite a large amount, if I do say so myself. Because I also put on shows twice a week, where someone performs and those who attend pay a fee. And it could be anyone that performs—Me, one of my friends, or even someone I find on the street. So if you ask me, my situation is better than pretty good. More than anyone could ask for, really.
“I know I have some extra blankets in this hallway closet.” I say, thinking out loud, opening the closet I just mentioned. “I think I have more in my extra rooms. I’ll go look in the rooms, while you grab what you can find out here.”
“Okay.” She replies obediently.
A few minutes go by and I look through both rooms maybe 3 times before calling it quits. Returning to Mei, I find her looking at pictures of important moments in my life that I had around the living room. I’ve had my share of females in my place. But something about Mei, whom I haven’t had any relations with, feels different. Her being here just feels and looks…right. Like she belongs here—with me.
Having that realization, I quietly walk up behind her and say, “My life really isn’t that interesting.”
“I’ll say.” She quickly responds. “It seems like you’re an ultimate achiever to me. Which I have to apologize to you about.”
“Why?”
“Well—“ she pauses, hesitating to continue. “I kind of thought people that work at bars to be more—“
“Jerks?” I finish for her.
“Y—yeah. I was gonna say deadbeats, or lowlifes.” She says, in a giggling tone.
“Wow. So you were thinking that little of me this whole time?”
“I’m sorry,” she says, no longer laughing. “It sounds a lot worse saying it out loud, doesn’t it?”
“It’s okay.” I add. “It’s understandable. But running a bar is actually similar to running a restaurant. It’s not as bad an occupation as one might think. I've always liked the upbeat, lively, music playing all night sort of vibe. Do you see that man?”
I point at a picture on a shelf, above the fireplace. And like I suggest, Mei takes it in her hand and examines it.
“A few years back, I seen him running his own place. He’s the one that gave me the idea. So I worked under him for a few years to get the experience. Then, with his advice, I went to college for business management, just so I knew for sure how to run this place on my own. So, I kind of owe him everything.”
“How so?” She asks, invested into the conversation.
Passing the picture to me, I happily stare at my mentor in the picture. “Because he’s taught me all I know. Yeah, I went to Business School and all, but he gave me the experience I needed. I only went to school because without it I couldn’t have gotten to where I am today without a piece of paper saying that I have a degree in this. That’s why I hate how society works. Someone with a degree, who never worked in the field they’re applying for, will get picked before the person that actually worked hard for however long to get to a good position. They could know the business like the back of their hand and they’ll still be looked past for the one with the degree. It’s sad, but that’s the world we live in.”
“What happened to him?” Mei asks, pointing at my mentor in the picture.
“He passed away.” I place the photo back on the shelf.
“I’m sorry.” Mei says solemnly.
“Thanks. It was of natural causes. He was already on the older side when I met him, so it was bound to happen at some point.”
“Still. You’re never actually ready for it to happen.”
“That’s true.”
Getting lost in my memories of the past few years, I don’t realize Mei gazing at me with admiration. “If you don’t mind me asking. How old are you?”
“I’m 23.” I answer, easing an eyebrow curiously at her.
“So you knew what you were meant to do from the beginning. That’s pretty incredible.” She replies softly, still looking at me with a warm expression on her face.
“What are you going to school for?” Her eyes widen at my words. “I can tell you’re younger than me, so I just assumed you were.”
Turning her eyes away from mine, she replies, “How can you tell I’m younger than you?”
“The reaction you’re giving me, right now. You’re also turning red.” I say, brushing my knuckle gently against her cheek.
Quickly backing away from my hand, with her glasses still on, she covers her face with her hand. “I’m 20.” She starts, speaking in a muffled tone. “And I’m going to school for creative writing.”
“A creative writing major, huh?” I reply. ‘Why is she still covering her face?’ I think, smiling to myself. I lift my hand to remove hers from hiding her face. I notice she has a smudge on her glasses that could’ve been caused by the rain. “Looks like you have a scratch on your glasses.”
“What?” Mei says surprisingly. Taking them off, she starts to squint as she tries to see the smudge.
I chuckle and say, “You know. You’re very pretty.” I say plainly. Once again, her face turns bright red, as she becomes flustered to my words.“And I can tell you’re not going to be able to see without them. So…here.” I generously reach out my hand. “Let me try to clean them for you.”
Slowly handing them over to me, I go to one of my rooms that has all my band equipment. I look into a drawer for my cleaning supplies, I use for my instruments, and I start to clean Mei’s glasses. She follows in shortly after and starts to examine the room, the best she can.
“Is this, what guys like to call, ‘your man cave’?” She says, glancing through my CD’s, bringing each one really close to her face so she can make out the words.
“Not exactly. That’s the other extra room I have. This one is more like my office. Since I play music on the side.”
“I see. No roommates?” She asks, still trying to read the C.D.’s.
“No. I like my own space.”
She picks up a CD that has my name on it. Under it the year read, 1977. “Is it alright if I play something?”
“Sure. Play whatever you’d like.” I respond, mending to Mei’s glasses under a spyglass.
Not paying attention to the fact that it’s my CD from when I was 17. Hearing it almost makes me want to throw the stereo out the window. “Is this really you?” She says with raillery.
I finish cleaning her glasses, and hand them back to her. “Unfortunately.” I reply, unhappy she found that disc. “But that was me 6 years ago. I write much better than that now. Can you see out of your glasses better?”
“Much, thank you. But why do you hate it? I think it sounds pretty good.”
“It’s not that I hate it.” I retort, grabbing a more recent CD I made. “I just make better material now. Here. Listen to this.”
Replacing the C.D., I play the song for her. We stay silent, letting the music fill the air around us. I watch her facial expressions change as she really takes in every lyric.
‘I feel like I’m showing my work to a music critic.’ I think happily to myself. ‘She’s nice to have around.’
The song ends and I wait for her to say something. “You know what I just noticed.”
“What’s that?”
“You and I are basically in the same profession.”
“How do you figure that?” I ask while wanting to laugh.
“Well. I’m a writer. Or…at least…I’m going to school to be one. And you…you’re…you’re a poet.” She says enthusiastically. “That’s basically what songs are, and I think people forget that modern day songs are poems.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. A lot of people don’t put the two in the same category anymore.”
“Right!”
Seeing her smiling, I have a separate thought. ‘I’m glad to see she’s come out of her shell.’
“You know.” She comments. “Today. Before it started raining. I was feeling like it was a mistake for me to want to be a writer.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, in a curious tone.
“Because my father wants me to go to school to become a nurse and ultimately a doctor. Just like him. But I don’t want to be a doctor. I want to write. And meeting you today. Seeing how you went after and obtained your dream has really inspired me, Honjo. So thank you.”
“Well, this is only one of my dreams, in a manner of speaking. But I’m glad I helped you make your decision. I think personal dreams are a very important part of what makes life worth living. That’s why I like your name.”
“What?”
“Your name. It means life.”
“You’re right. It does.” She starts to smile once again. Which also makes me smile. “So what is your other dream?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“And why not?” She asks teasingly.
“Because it hasn’t happened yet. So I don’t want to jinx it.” We both go silent after my answer.
“So you’re just the whole package then.” Caught off guard from her bold statement I stare at her in amusement. “Only…because…You’re good looking.” Mei steps over her words, obviously embarrassed. “You have a career. And you have dreams and aspirations.”
“You find me good looking?” I happily comment after hearing her say that.
Building the courage to continue as she gazes into my eyes, she says, “Of course I do. Only someone more blind than me wouldn’t think so.”
“You’re not really a shy person, are you? You just had to get a little comfortable first.” I start to laugh at the realization.
“You’re laughing at me again.”
I take a few deep breaths, to calm myself down from laughing. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”
Mei lifts her hand to her lips as she giggles. Looking at the sleeve, I remember she’s wearing my clothes and she suddenly went from pretty to sexy in a matter of seconds.
“Have I told you, you look good in my clothes yet?” I say in an alluring voice.
Becoming shy, a third time, she breaks eye contact with me. But before she can hide her face from me again, I gently grab her chin and turn her head so she’ll look at me. “I mean it.”
I start to slowly lean in towards her, so as not to scare her. I so badly want to kiss her, but I don’t want to put too much pressure on her incase she doesn’t want to. My clothes definitely don’t give Mei’s small physique justice, but the lazy look is what’s ironically making her look so good.
The closer she lets me move in, the more I can sense that she wants me to kiss her too. Our noses are almost touching, and her lips start to move. “You can—“
Not letting her finish, I finally steal a kiss. Making us both forget that we only came up here to grab blankets for everyone downstairs.
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