French Cup: A Neighborhood Story

Chapter 59: -Kazuya- Wool Coat

He came in the evening. He'd seen in this week's Rainbow Edition that we were having an open mic night, and he was interested. He'd wanted to be here anyway, it was in his face. These nervous gestures, just like this morning when he'd been there waiting for me. He'd hugged me briefly at the doorway of my kitchen, but I'd wanted to hold him and never let go. It was just like my daydream, the wool of his coat. 

He'd watched me complete flan patissiers, ones I'd slice up for everyone coming today. All the same flavor, but the universal one of the original. He sat at my work table, watching me zoom around. He was quiet again, but he was smiling that same gentle smile. As I secretly stared at him every now and again, I realized it was a smile of contentment. He wanted to be here with me. 

Out on the main floor, we could hear Hiran loudly complaining in a joking manner about our open mic night. "You're taking business away from me. What are you doing? This isn't a live house. I bet these performers would like it at my place more. You're not even paying them. I'll pay them and take them away. Hey, are you listening?" Loud laughter as people were arriving, filling up the atmosphere. And yet, I wanted to stay in here. I was almost done with making these tarts, but I wanted to lie and say I forgot something. Stay in here with Gyeong-Wan until everyone went home. Be alone with him. He was making no moves to want to go out there, either.

Eventually, Nikki came in. No knocking, a rude interruption. The tarts were finished, cut up for everybody. But, without words Gyeong-Wan and I were sitting together. His thumb was rubbing my hand as he held it, both of us deep in our own thoughts. What was he thinking about? I wanted to ask, but there was this same scared feeling. Scared to go forward, because of the enormity of my own thoughts. This longing, but here he was. So scared, that I wanted cry, but not out of sadness. 

We'd brought the tarts out together. Clapping went up and Ayane announced that she was starving. Hanako was all dressed up, because he was performing. Nikki was, too, as the MC. He took a tart slice before I said he could. Gyeong-Wan and I sat down in the front row together, and I explained that we'd been having open mic nights like this for a long time. Usually, we had them in the summer when it was warm. We'd hold them in our back patio in the open air, because the atmosphere was better. We called it open mic, but it was more like vaudeville. He particularly brightened up when I told him about my favorite performer of all, someone I thought of all the time: a fire dancer who danced with two blazing balls of fire on chains. 

As we watched singers, dancers, and a magician, I held his hand. Out in the open, no shame. As the magician performed, I thought about his hand in mine. What that meant. We were holding hands, but what were we to each other? This image of him smiling at me and stacking boxes of chocolates... It was such a fantasy. This reality around us, what we were to each other. Were we friends? I'd tried to go further recently when we were together in my apartment, but... He had a girlfriend. 

As Julia ascended the stage with her ukulele, I was heartbroken. The reality of who we are. Julia sat down on a mint green chair that had been placed there for them by Nikki. They were dressed in their usual black robe that covered half their face. I'd come to know it as a comfort object, making them more comfortable around others. Sometimes it made others uncomfortable around them as a result, but no one in here was unfamiliar with Julia. They all loved Julia and respected them. 

"What's going to happen?" Gyeong-Wan whispered to me. It brought me out of my thoughts, and I smiled to him.

"Hmm, what do you mean?" I asked, getting too close to his face. It made a blush immediately appear on my cheeks, unintended. 

"What kind of music is she going to play?"

"Oh." I grinned a little. So, there was one person in the audience unfamiliar with Julia as of yet. "Not 'she'. 'They'. Julia is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

"Ohh. Okay. I read about non-binary."

Had he? It made my heart beat a little faster. What was he researching? "What else did you read about-"

The calming tones of Julia's ukulele started. Gyeong-Wan's hand relaxed in mine, the effect of the song being felt in both of us. It was a slow song, and they started to sing in Spanish.

"Ohh, I didn't expect this. I thought- ohh, I like this." He was whispering to me, something he wasn't supposed to be doing, but I was too curious to stop him.

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. I really- I don't know." He chuckled cutely, warmly. It was even better music to my ears than what I was currently hearing. "Maybe something...um...darker."

"Why?"

"Because of the robe-"

We both jumped as a hard poking startled both of us from behind. We turned, and saw that two hands were poking us at the same time. It was Nikki staring at us like a disappointed parent. We waved at him, various expressions of regret on our faces. He nodded at us as if saying, "that's right, now you behave."

We were quiet afterward, and I was left to my thoughts again. Gyeong-Wan was enchanted by the performers, sometimes his hand leaving mine as he clapped for them. I was startled again each time, almost forgetting what I was watching. I clapped with him, taking him as a cue. Afterward, I couldn't remember a single performer, surprising myself. In a sense, I hadn't even been there. 

When he had to go back to the hotel, we were alone. We were outside, and I'd locked up. We were lingering, not wanting to be parted. He had me in his arms, and I wanted more just like when we'd been in my apartment. It was different this time, though. I didn't want sex. It was something else. This desperate feeling. 

This feeling had come on so quickly this morning, and was like a burning fire out of control. Smoldering in my body, rising and falling as I thought of him all day. Needing him, to the point where I could cry. 

As he held me, not wanting to go either, I realized what it was and I really wanted to cry. 

Wanting him to come through the door of French Cup every day. It was like me wanting my dad to come through the door. How much I loved my dad, wanting him to see me. But, I wanted to see Gyeong-Wan. It was almost the same, this familiar feeling.

My arms went tighter around Gyeong-Wan, desperation in every inch. My face pressed more into his shoulder, warding off the cold in the soft, thick wool of his coat. Something I'd wanted all day.

Because, I was in love with Gyeong-Wan. That was it. I'd fallen in love with him when he was making chocolate, that look in his eyes. That gentle smile as he'd poured it into molds with such care. That passion he had. Wanting him to come back and be with me as we made sweets together. This feeling of forever, that was the difference. That was love. 

He didn't part from me as we hugged in front of French Cup. Many minutes went by, but he didn't want to go. Wanting to hold me just as much as I wanted to hold him. Small wonderings of what that meant, but being too scared to explore it right now. Only this desire. Needing him. Wanting to continue the dream, one that could be continued the more I held him and felt his wool coat. 

"Come back in the morning," I told him as we hugged. These few words, but holding such a weight to me. My need, my dream. 

"I want to," he said immediately in my ear. 

And secretly, as he began to sway back and forth with me, adoring me in a new way, I began to cry in my feelings for him.