tearless eulogy ➯ zhou g.y. // formula two

three part two - confessions

22 september 2019

guan yu

i step into the apartment, the smell of fried rice hitting my nose, reminding me of Ma's cooking.

"you made fried rice?" i question genuinely. i desperately wanted to know whether it was store bought or home cooked - it makes all the difference.

"yea. it's 剩饭炒饭, leftovers fried rice," she responds, and i see the wok sitting in its place on the stove.

剩饭炒饭 reminded me of the days when i was younger - when we wanted to save money, Ma would cook up a storm, and 剩饭炒饭 was always the best type of 炒饭. it wasn't that we were poor - in fact we were far from it - but when it came to racing, every extra cent counted, and every cent saved was an extra cent for racing.

she scoops a plate for herself, turning to face me.

"have you eaten?"

i shake my head, and she begins to scoop a plate for me. i'm secretly grateful that i chose to eat at her place today.

she leads me to the living room, where a large television sits. She collapses on the sofa, not a single grain of rice spilt somehow. i take my place next to her, giving her a bit of distance.

i cannot wait any longer, and shovel a spoonful of rice into my mouth.

the flavours explode in my mouth, a perfect balance of the neutral flavours of the rice, the saltiness of the ingredients, and the tiny bit of sweetness the spring onions provided. it reminded me of Ma's cooking, and took me back to when i was young. it was one of the best plates of home-cooked chinese food i have ever had - cooked by the hands of a french girl.

"where'd you learn to make this?" i questioned, looking at her curiously - amelié hubert would always be a mystery. this was a dish traditionally passed from generation to generation, and the fact that she knew what it was surprised me.

"took a gap year after graduating and spent the year in china. stayed with a local family during my time there. the number of times i ate fried rice there was insane, and while i was there, learnt from the family, as well as trying to teach myself," she smiles, which i knew was a rare sight when it came to her.

we eat in silence, not that it is an uncomfortable one, but one where we are just being in each other's company.

␥

amelié

oddly enough, i found his presence comforting. and though i barely knew him, i could trust him. i never trusted easily, so i had no idea why i trusted the man next to me for no rhyme or reason. i knew anthoine was watching me, and maybe this was his way of telling me that guan yu would be important in my life.

anthoine, i can't read your mind, what are you thinking?

i decide to break the silence by bringing up the original reason he came here in the first place.

"so, do you want the answers or not?"

he nods in response.

"do you want to turn the TV on? the race is on now," he asks, and i get a bit tentative.

truth be told, i haven't watched a race since spa. neither sienna or i could bring ourselves to. we had turned on the television for f2 practice, and not seeing anthoine or jm's names on the screen made me lose it completely, leaving sienna to pick up my broken pieces. as usual. plus, today was singapore - street circuit, accident prone - and there was no way i was going to send myself into a breakdown in front of a complete stranger.