“Shortie, come on!” Pete waves me over and I quicken my steps toward him. “Which one?” he asks, raising both ice cream plates.
“Why did you bring me here?”
He giggles with a pout. “Seemed like you'd fit perfectly.” How could he know that? We just met? “So… which one?”
I step forward and collect the Blueberry Oreo Crunch. Minnie has been dying to try it. It’s in the ads all the time and I’d love her to finally get the chance. He sits on the swing and I sit in the one next to him, pinning my eyes on the view. My entire body relaxes with an exhale and then I take in multiple deep breaths.
The swing creaks when I push it forward a little and my lips welcome a gentle smile. I’ve always loved the sound of swings, they remind me of what childhood felt like before I had to grow up too fast. The lack of responsibility, the carelessness, the endless curiousness. Sitting in silence, I push it forth and back a few times, the creaking noise accompanied by Pete’s slurping as he licks his ice cream. I like the sound of that, too.
“Do you always dress like that?” Pete’s gentle voice breaks through the calm and when I turn to him, he points at my grey t-shirt with ‘harder daddy’ printed in bold letters on top.
I scoff. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“No… but between yesterday and today, you seem to have a very… particular taste in fashion.”
“You must think I'm such a slut, huh.”
Slurping on his ice cream, he says, “I’m in no position to think that about you, Shortie.”
“Why? Trying to be the better person?”
He chuckles, adjusting on his swing to cross his ridiculously long legs. “I’m far from the better person. Probably the lowest of them all.”
He leaves his eyes on his ice cream and this gives me enough privacy to narrow mine at him. How can he say that about himself? Lowest? Is he kidding me? Does he not own a mirror? I look away to stop myself from saying all the things I’m thinking, thereby freaking him out. “Why do you think that?” I ask in a flat tone.
“Last night… those men were my exes,” he says dryly.
I clear my throat because if I’m being honest, I don’t want to hear about my idol and his exes right now. I cannot be trusted with this information, I run a fan blog for heaven's sake. “Interesting.”
He straightens. “Well… not exactly exes.” He pauses, fiddling with his ice cream. “I kind of… sort of… had… certain relations...with both of them… at the same time.”
My tongue almost chokes me at the speed at which I snap my gaze toward him.
“I know, I know. Not my finest moment.” He draws a deep breath, exhaling loudly.
Pete’s promiscuity is no secret, he’s in the news every other month with dating rumors, and though he's often criticized for this, for us—his fans—it’s an exciting adventure. We have a guessing tree on my blog for who he’ll date next, more like a puzzle game and every month whoever wins gets a sticker. But two-timing? Come on, Pete. Why is he even telling me this like it’s a casual conversation?
“That is a lot to share with someone you hardly know, Pete.”
“Are you more repulsed with now?” He holds my gaze.
“Why did you do it?”
The silence lingers as he licks his ice cream, the cold breeze rustling his hair a bit more.
“There are only two things people want from me, Shortie. My body, or my money. I know that sounds like something a privileged asshole would say, and I understand if you think that of me. But…” He licks his lips. “I don’t know if I have anything else to offer.” He smiles but it barely reaches his eyes.
Uncertain of what to make of this unexpected and unwanted honesty, I blink at him and it remains quiet between us. I’m careful when I finally open my mouth to call him again. “Pete.”
“Yes.”
“Are you lonely?”
With a soft laugh, he swings. “No. I’m a bit…” His eyes chase the words into the far distance and finds it after a few seconds of blinking and licking his spoon. “Lost.”
“Where?”
“In everyone else’s expectation.” He exhales. “In some circles, you can say I’m a kind of… a little… famous.”
A little? Now that's funny. “I see.”
“Do you want to see something cool?” he wiggles his full dark brows at me and I shrug in response. Digging his hand into his pocket, he pulls out a pink bubble maker from his pocket and dangles it in front of me. “Surprise!” he cheers with the most adorable giggle and I crack the tiniest smile. “Oh! Shortie!” He points at my lips. “Is that a smile?”
“No.”
“Heiiiiiiiiiii…” He clicks his tongue. “Such a queen.” He chuckles and sticks the bubble maker into his mouth.
Dear heavens, my idol is a toddler. For the next ten minutes, I watch in silence as he blows bubbles into the air, as many as he can until they are coming down on us like soft rain. I lean my head against the swing and watch the bubbles, swinging calmly. I think I might be starting to see Pete. Not Pete my idol or Pete the hottest celebrity of the season, but Pete the person. Soft, warm, playful—lost.
“Everyone feels lost at some point in their lives,” I say.
“Have you ever felt lost?”
I nod. “Quite a lot.”
“And how did you find yourself?”
“I have a great father. He’s like… a GPS tracker for the lost.” We both giggle.
“That’s amazing.”
“Yes. I love him—so much. Pa once said, if you aren't lost a few times in life, that means you’ve never traveled anywhere. You stay stuck.”
“Hmm.”
“If you keep walking, though, there is always a destination at the end of the journey. The only ones who lose are ones who either stop in the middle of the journey or return to where they started.”
“Hmm.” He stares at me for a time and goes back to blowing bubbles.
The air around us goes back to silence, leaving only the whistling breeze and rustling of leaves. I still cannot make sense of why he chose to bring me here. Why he found me, why he looks at me like we've known each other for ages, why he’s too comfortable around me and I feel a little guilty about not letting him know I’m a fan.
But right now, in this moment, I’d love to stay like this, on this swing, watching the bubbles blown by a grown man fall against my freezing cheeks. There is a carefreeness I have missed about this feeling. The simplicity of sitting next to someone and just being.
“My name is Luke,” I say, as if speaking too loud would ruin the perfection of quietness surrounding us.
“I know,” he replies and keeps blowing.
“Aunty Fai?”
He giggles. “Yeah.”
“Don’t like her too much. She’s racist.”
A bigger laugh pours from him. “Who isn’t in Hazalu.”
I watch him continue to fill the air with bubbles for a bit before saying. “So no more calling me shortie.”
“I like calling you shortie.”
“It’s a terrible nickname,” I complain. “And there is more to me than my height.”
“I know that, too,” he agrees, turning to me. “Hopefully you’d allow me to get to know how much more?”
“My life isn’t adventurous.”
“Are you kidding? You do deliveries! You’re supposed to have a million stories. You get to really see the world.”
Shaking my head at his innocent ignorance of how isolating being a delivery man can be, I say, “That's one way to put it.”
He stretches out a hand. “To getting to know you.”
Apprehensively, I shake his hand and the shiver rumbles through me. Yeah, scratch what I said earlier, I’m never getting used to this. Pete is not a normal person. He’s Pete! Five-time award-winning best actor. No one is getting used to that.
“You’ve barely tasted your ice cream,” he states as our handshake breaks and I nod once. “Oh shoot… I got the brand you don’t like, didn’t I?” I shake my head. “Then… why not try out some. You’re leaving me to eat alone.”
“I will have it later.”
He pouts. “Just tell me you don’t like the brand and next time I will get the one you like.”
“I like the brand.”
“Then why later?” His face scrunches.
I was saving it for Minnie, it’d be an amazing treat for her, and I can’t afford it now, not when I intend on buying her new shoes. But one glance at Pete’s scrunched face and I’m opening the plate. I resent the look on his face.
“Happy?” I ask once I take the first scoop.
“Do you like it?”
“Very much.” I nod. It’s wonderful, tastes like fucking heaven. Soft, smooth, and scrunchy. Filled with nuts, Oreos, and I think there are even waffles.
It makes me sad Minnie won’t be able to have some. I have to save up and get her this for her birthday. She can still have her cake, but this will make her happy for days. Knowing her, she’d probably store it in an ice cooler to stretch it as long as possible so she’d be able to take a few scoops a day. My precious hoarder sister.
“Shortie,” Pete calls and I return my attention to him. “I’m sorry.”
With a blink, I straighten. “For what?”
“Being pushy. I just… I always wanted to sit here and have ice cream with someone. But I can tell you don’t like it, you look so sad.”
“No no no no… it’s not…” I sigh. “Pete, I love it. It is wonderful.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“Clearly there is a but, I pick up on the slightest change in people's countenance quite easily,” he explains.
“Is that a vampire thing?”
“It’s a—I spend my whole life around people—thing.”
“Well, there are no buts, was just thinking of my sister, Minnie. I was saving it for her, she would have loved it, it’s her favorite brand.”
“Oh, I can—”
“I will buy some for her after work, don’t worry.”
Yes, I lie. Not because I’m ashamed about being poor. I have been poor all my life and have never been ashamed of my family’s financial situation. Pa does so much and deserves the world. I’m proud of him—of us, and how far we have come together as a family.
But I’ve only just met Pete and I don’t want him thinking I’m expecting anything, especially after what he just told me. It sucks that he thinks all everyone wants from him is his body and money, his talent has given me so much comfort over the years. I’ve cried, laughed, lived through his acting. He is much more than he paints himself to be. I have only ever wanted to support him and see him achieve greater heights. But I’ve also never been famous, and will never be, so I wouldn’t know what it feels like to walk a mile in his shoes.
“Thank you for bringing me out here, Pete. It means a lot to me,” I say and for whatever reason, his eyes grow large.
“It does?”
“It's a great view and you are not terrible company.”
“Thanks for coming, and sorry for kidnapping you.”
With a little nod, I turn back to the view. His eyes stay on me for a while before he does the same.
Time drifts by too fast for me to catch on, I’m not sure how long we’ve spent up here. I’d love for us to stay longer, with simple conversations, sunsets, bubbles, and ice cream. But before any of it feels enough, we’re driving back to work, soon enough Klause pulls up in front of the building and Pete walks me to the entrance.
“Can I have your number or Chatsapp?” Pete asks politely, handing me his phone. I type in the details and hand it back to him.
“No more surprise visits, ok?”
He nods. “No more surprise visits. One more thing.”
“Yes?”
He steps closer and my body tenses up, it’s become a reflex action, I can’t help it when he is this close. He brings two thumbs to my forehead and starts massaging it. “Stop frowning so much,” he grumbles. “Your forehead is suffering, you will get wrinkles.”
I giggle but don’t try to push his hand away. It’s cold, but all I feel is warmth, and my toes and fingers tingle from it. My body relaxes and some part of me wishes I could just hug him, hold onto his body a little longer, and bask in his comfort. I’m starting to close my eyes when he takes his hands back, robbing the comfort away as he does.
“See you around, Shortie.” He grins, walking backward to his car.
“See you.” I raise my left hand to wave, only to discover it’s too weak, and so is my entire body from Pete’s touch.
My eyes stay on him until he’s back in his Zently and it remains there as they drive away. I remain standing until the ice dust makes it impossible for me to see the car before I walk into the building, retrieve a new POS from Aunty Fai, and begin my shift.
My head is in a fog throughout my shift, remembering every second Pete and I spent together. His hair, his smile, his smell. I’m counting the moments until I can tell Timi all about it. Though I’m not sure what to say. The entire ordeal is weird. Becoming friends with my idol is supposed to be impossible, but here I am, with a memory I’ll never forget.
Even if Pete never texts, even if I never see him again, it was perfect, and somewhere in there, I’m glad to find out he is just as full of imperfections as everyone else.
“Here you go.” Aunty Fai hands me my paycheck for the day.
“Thaki, Aunty, have a good night.”
“Ah… this was dropped off for you.” She bends over and pops back up with a large yellow box.
“For me?”
“It has a note.” She slides it over the counter. I receive it and unfold it.
Hei, Shortie.
I know I promised no more surprises, but I had a feeling if I told you, you’d protest. I think you like saying no to things more than you like breathing. Hahaha. Anyway, I hope this makes Minnie happy, and in turn, brings a big smile to those stunning lips.
Your least favorite leech,
Pete.
Furrowing my brow, I quickly remove the cover of the box and almost gasp, leaving my jaw on the floor. There are six different flavors of Bumbly ice cream. Heavens fuck. Why did he do this? Why would he—I suck in a breath when I feel the tear pricking my eyes and a dry laugh escapes me.
“Hei, Luke,” a startled Aunty Fai calls out to me. “Luke, are those tears I’m seeing?”
I laugh with a sob and the tears roll down my cheek. “Yes, Aunty. It’s Minnie’s ice cream.”
“Eh? You’re crying over ice cream?”
I shake my head. “No, Minnie’s favorite ice cream.”
“I honestly don’t understand your race.”
I roll my eyes and lift the box off the counter, turning away from her. “Naiguso.”
“Hei! Don’t forget to ask your boyfriend if he has any single friends! Do you hear me!”
I’m already out the door when I yell another goodbye. I secure the box on my bike and start home, half in tears with a heart so full of happiness it could burst. Minnie is going to be so happy, I’m going to have to pay the electricity bill earlier than expected so she can enjoy this. I can’t wait to see her face when she sees this, it will be the best thing ever.
Fucking Pete, making me cry in winter, but even the tears feel good, too.
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