Fear and Fate(poly)(bxb)

Twenty

My reflection stares back at me as I prepare to leave my apartment. My hair is long, full, and healthy. Each curl coming together to create a crown. The blonde is natural and cohesive, lighter at the ends due to sun exposure.

I cover my full lips with a minty plumping gloss I bring everywhere I go. I think I'm going to take a break from dating. I have the worst luck when it comes to love. I was screaming another man's name last time and I woke up this morning blocked on everything.

Tijuana is the busiest city I've ever been to. Living here for 3 years I have met more people than I did my entire life in the US. Mexicans and Americans rush out of the colorful buildings and cargo ship containers at all hours of the day. Drinks flow like water. This morning the weather is hot but the ocean breeze cools the air to an enjoyable calm.

The entire town is on the beach yet I can never get tired of staring at the shore. I enjoy my solitude on a sunset-colored towel as the gust blows grains of sand onto my skin. I'm right in front of a resort so there are other people coupled up behind me as a waiter takes orders for alcoholic beverages.

He's wearing yellow shorts and a floral shirt that's completely open at the front. When he walks up to me I make my back straighter and greet him with a smile.

"Cuanto?" I ask after picking out a frozen cocktail with a fresh fruit garnish.

The waiter takes the menu from me before telling me the price in USD. Even though I'm half Mexican I will always look like a tourist here. In my 23 years of living, I have never fit in anywhere.

I spend hours on the beach alone, one of my favorite forms of self-care. The water calls me. It's how I got here. To end my day I stop by a convenience store a block away from my apartment. The smells of barbacoa and other meats cooking are pungent as the city refuses to sleep. The entire block is illuminated by motorcycle lights and open storefronts.

I greet the cashier and his mom who's preparing lengue for the dad to grill outside. They all smile at me as I make my way down the aisles. I spot the specific type of Cheetos I love and that I've never seen in the US. The bag feels light and crunchy when I pick it up.

There's someone tall and dark in front of me. My eyes travel slowly up the familiar figure and I gasp out loud, almost screaming. Instead, I choose not to believe my eyes. I quickly pay for the snack at the register as he takes his time catching up to me.

Crisp air brings me back to reality as I exit the store. I turn around to make sure I'm not hallucinating this time. Because I imagined seeing the men here for years and they never came. This time has to be all in my head too.

"Sit," Von says.

He pulls out a chair from the outdoor dining table they have here. He keeps his hand on the back of it until I finally obey him. Then he pushes me up to the table with one hand.

My hallucinations have never interacted with the world around me. Things in my mind cannot have evolved like this. I can't be that mentally ill. He's real.

Von takes out a cigarette, lights it, and stares at me with his seascape eyes the entire time. I'm still taking it in. The slow exhale of smoke from his lips, the light wrinkles between his eyebrows.

"You smoke?" I ask, instantly remembering how intolerant he was when Kimori did it around him.

"Spent too much time with Hyun. It's an old habit. I can stop if you want me to," Von says, his voice deep as the Pacific Ocean. "I just like the brand they have here... and the tacos."

The way he says it sounds too nostalgic. The Von I know is obsessive. He lacks self-control and most of all he's selfish.

"Is this your first time here?" I ask.