When Felix steps back into the apartment, it’s quiet. Jisung has fallen asleep on the couch, his phone abandoned on his stomach, his mouth slightly open, his breathing a little heavy. Felix watches him, and all he can think is: thank God.

Thank God Jisung is asleep.

Right now, Felix couldn’t possibly handle a conversation with him. Jisung would be hyped up, excited, itching to know every detail about the night Felix just had—and honestly, Felix gets it. If the roles were reversed, he’d do the same. But Felix isn’t sure he’s ready to put into words what just happened—he’s pretty sure he never will be.

He kicks off his heels and pads barefoot to the bathroom. He tosses the wig and his clothes on the floor and steps into the shower without even glancing at the mirror. He doesn’t know how he managed to do it earlier, at the party—now it feels like something inconceivable.

The lukewarm water cascades over his bare skin. Felix runs his hands through his hair, fingers untangling the strands before gently lathering them with soap. He has no idea what time it is, but he’s so exhausted it must be very late at night. As he turns off the water, he wonders what Chan is thinking right now.

Does he really believe what they shared was “nothing”?

No, that can’t be. Those are just lies he tells himself to feel better, to ease his conscience and make himself feel less messed up than they both are.

He throws on an oversized shirt as pajamas, spreads a thin layer of moisturizer on his face, and slips into Jisung’s empty bed. After the shower, exhaustion hits him all at once, yet he can’t fall asleep. He gave Chan a blowjob. The thought is so absurd it doesn’t even feel real, yet he can still feel the weight of Chan’s hard cock on his tongue. And the memory stirs something in his legs. It’s not excitement—there’s no feverish heartbeat, no. If anything, Felix feels uncomfortable and depressed. He presses the pillow against his face and sighs heavily. They’ll never get past this.

How could they?

They’ve crossed every boundary.

Chan can delude himself all he wants that it was “nothing,” but it’s something so big that neither of them can really figure out how to handle it—unless, maybe, they talk about it honestly… but what would they even say?

Just because Chan got a blowjob doesn’t mean he’s into men. They’d both been drinking, Felix was dressed as a woman, and regardless, Chan could’ve just been turned on by the idea of making his ex jealous… Felix is sure it’s some mix of those reasons that made Chan hard enough to be sucked off.

It has nothing to do with him.

In a different situation, Chan would’ve pushed him away in disgust.

Maybe the thought is weighing on him now, something he’ll be ashamed of for the rest of his life.

Those are the thoughts that slowly lull Felix to sleep. A restless sleep, filled with images of Chan treating him badly, of messages saying it’d be better if they never spoke again. When he wakes up, it’s morning. He sits up in bed with a headache so bad he feels like he might throw up. Why the hell did he drink so much? On top of making some seriously questionable decisions, he’s now stuck with one of the most annoying hangovers ever.

He gets out of bed and drags himself to the kitchen. The apartment is empty and quiet. Jisung must’ve already left for work, which, once again, is an unexpected stroke of luck. Felix makes himself a cup of black coffee, no sugar, and downs it in a few gulps. Then he grabs a snack and eats it while staring out the window. He’s not really looking at anything—his mind is blank, no thoughts lingering. He only snaps out of that haze when his phone starts buzzing insistently.

The miracle seems to have happened: it’s the plumber.

“Hello?”

“Hey, good morning. The pipe’s here, and we’re on our way to install it now. Since we had to break some tiles and need to put them back, it’ll take about 48 hours for everything to dry completely before you can use the bathroom again. In a couple of days, you can go back to your place.”

Thank God.

Finally, some good news.

Felix thanks the plumber, they quickly arrange payment, and he hangs up. He texts Jisung on KakaoTalk, then hurries to get ready. His shift at the convenience store starts right after lunch, and he doesn’t want to hear the owner complain about him being late. Better to leave early, given how unreliable public transportation has been lately.

A pair of dark jeans, a warm sweater, a light scarf to protect his neck. Felix makes it onto the bus just in time. He finds a seat by the window and plugs in his earphones. A Muse song starts playing, and he finds it almost ironic—his inner turmoil matches the melodies perfectly.

The city blurs past him. He hasn’t received a single message from Chan, but then again, he hasn’t sent one either, so they’re even. What would they even say to each other, anyway? Felix doesn’t even feel like talking to him—not after how Chan brushed him off last night. Screw it. If Chan didn’t want to ruin their friendship, he should’ve thought about whether distancing himself would hurt Felix’s feelings.

He sighs and runs a hand over his face.

Why does he keep thinking about this?

Chan is a more or less constant presence in his life, but never consistent. Maybe they won’t talk for a few months—until things feel less weird, less cringe. Then maybe they can go back to talking like nothing happened, even pretending they’ve forgotten about the whole thing. Out of all the possibilities, that seems like the best one to Felix. There’s no way to confront this, not with the way things are. And what conclusion would they even reach? That Felix is gay and has been in love with him forever? Big surprise. If Chan hasn’t noticed by now, it’s only because he’s been turning a blind eye to the obvious.

Felix gets off at his stop and walks the short distance to the convenience store. It’s cold, the sky is gray, and the streets are filled with elderly people and students rushing to the subway. Felix walks into the store, where a couple of customers are browsing—one flipping through magazines trying to decide which one’s interesting, the other reading the back of cans looking for the presence (or absence) of some ingredient. Felix mutters a greeting to the owner, who looks up from the register with a reproachful expression. It’s not like Felix has done anything wrong—that’s just the owner’s default look. He always looks at you like that, and it’s up to you to figure out if you deserve it or not.

He heads to the break room and puts on his uniform—a cappuccino-colored apron over his clothes. He ties his hair into a ponytail, applies some lip balm to his dry lips, and joins the owner behind the register.

“You can go if you want. I’ve got this.”

“Good,” the man says, getting up from the stool and stretching his legs. Felix will have to stay here until late at night—a brutal 11-hour shift awaits him. “My son will come half an hour before you finish. If he’s late, wait for him.”

The owner’s son always shows up at least an hour later than scheduled—and that extra hour of work never gets paid. But Felix needs this job, especially now that he owes the plumber. So he forces a smile and says, “Of course. See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

As soon as the owner leaves and Felix finishes ringing up the two customers, he sinks back into a strange bubble of silence and slowed-down thoughts. For the first time, Felix allows himself to think about the party. Chan kissed him in front of everyone while they were dancing. He kind of tricked Felix into that kiss, but it happened. And God, teenage Felix would be screaming if he knew a moment like that would finally come. But now, Felix feels nothing. Just a coldness in his chest. It’s like mourning, but he’s not sure what exactly has died inside him.

His phone buzzes. Felix glances at the screen. It’s Jisung.

[So, how was last night at the party?]

There it is, the dreaded question he never wanted to answer. Felix sighs. He knows he can’t keep it a secret, and it wouldn’t be fair to do so. Might as well rip the band-aid off quickly.

[It was a disaster], he types and sends.

Jisung replies after a few seconds.

[Why? Did you get caught?]

[No. But his ex was there. I’ll tell you more later, but just know we kissed and I gave him a blowjob. It didn’t end well, though. I don’t think we’ll be talking much anytime soon.]

The silence lasts for several minutes, and Felix thinks he understands why. Jisung is probably reading and rereading those words over and over, in shock.

[When do you finish work?]

[Around 2 a.m.]

[Damn, that’s too late. What if I stop by the store around 9 tonight? I need to talk to you about this face to face.]

[You want to talk about this at my job? Are you crazy?]

[I’m really pissed you didn’t wake me up to talk about it last night. But you’re right, talking about it at work might not be the best idea. I’ll wake you up at dawn tomorrow. Just so you know.]

Felix rolls his eyes, though deep down he starts to think it might be a good thing. Maybe talking about it will make him feel less apathetic, less detached from his emotions.
Maybe he’ll finally be able to react.