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“Lan Zhannnnnnn! You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Wei Ying groans, kicking off her boots in the doorway of Lan Zhan’s apartment as if it were her own. She picks them up and places them neatly on the mat (as Lan Zhan has often requested of her) and begrudgingly slips on her house-slippers. There were only three pairs of designated guest slippers in the cabinet. One for Lan Zhan’s brother, one for her uncle, and one for Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan raises her eyes from the book she had been attempting to read since Wei Ying had texted her that she would be coming by a half hour ago. She finds an exhausted-looking best friend looking back at her. Wei Ying had never been the best at taking care of herself. With a mind like hers, she was often working herself down to the bone, spreading herself thinner than butter. There was always some new project she was working on that was of the utmost importance.
Today, though, she was looking particularly battered. Her black hair was wild and unkempt, a messy bun now dangling near the base of her neck. Her face was nearly ashen, with her eyes hollow and heavy with fatigue. “A-Ying.” She says, surprised at how bad it had gotten, a tinge of guilt eating at her stomach. Her book is immediately closed and set on the coffee-table.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, A-Zhan! That’s the look people make at the ASPCA commercials... Or roadkill. I’m definitely a step up from roadkill.” She jokes, attempting to alleviate the severity of her appearance. She takes off her jacket and adds it to the coat rack and makes her way towards the couch with leaden feet. She gracelessly plummets herself face-first into the couch cushions, landing a few inches from Lan Zhan’s lap.
Lan Zhan runs her hand gently over the back of Wei Ying’s hair, combing through the tresses and undoing the poor excuse of a bun that remained.
“I am making Xiaolongbao* and tea.” She announces, patting Wei Ying’s head before she gets up. A muffled sound from Wei Ying follows, which she can only assume to be agreement.
The logical part of Lan Zhan’s brain kicks in, creating a mental list of tasks for herself. She sets the kettle to boil, prepares the bamboo steamer, and gets the soup dumplings she had previously prepared from out of the freezer.
“A-Zhan…” Wei Ying whines from the living room. “Can I use your shower?”
“Yes. Wei Ying. You know where everything is.” She calls back. At one point, Wei Ying had practically lived here. She was over all of the time after work and even swinging by on her lunch breaks. Lan Zhan worked from the comfort of her apartment, a perk of using her trust fund to start her own publication company. Wei Ying was eager to take advantage of that perk as well... with lunch-break naps.
That had all stopped when Wei Ying popped over unannounced one day to find Lan Zhan with another girl. Since then, Wei Ying came by far less frequently, and always with advanced notice.
The girl had been an acquaintance Lan Zhan met at a music seminar. They didn’t know each other very well, but it quickly became apparent that Chen MeiXing was interested in Lan Zhan as more than just a composition partner.
Having spent the last decade in love with her straight best friend Lan Zhan had foolishly thought that she could get over Wei Ying if she just gave someone else a chance. Those thoughts were futile, her attempt unsuccessful. There was just nobody else in the world that could ever outshine the silver-eyed, moppy-haired, whirlwind of chaos that was her A-Ying.
She often found herself thinking that if they could only be friends, it would be enough for her. Just to be in the presence of Wei Ying, to experience her brilliance, would be sufficient.
But then, shortly after the Chen MeiXing incident, Wei Ying had apparently found herself a boyfriend. Wen Ning was soft-spoken, and kind. He had been a colleague of Wei Ying’s for sometime and was well-liked, so Lan Zhan had to do her best to conceal her bitterness.
And so here she was, making soup dumplings and tea and hopelessly coveting the one and only woman who had ever made her truly feel something.
She distracts herself from thinking about Wei Ying naked in the shower by keeping herself busy preparing their tea. She felt guilty thinking about such things when her feelings were unrequited. Eyeing her tea cupboard, she debates which to make before selecting a chamomile blend. It’s not Wei Ying’s favorite by a long shot, but something soothing may be just what she needs.
Everything comes together by the time Wei Ying walks back down the hall in the pajama set that, like the slippers, had been specifically purchased for her. It was a set of red satin shorts with a matching button down shirt. Red had always been her favorite color.
”It symbolizes luck and happiness, A-Zhan. I could always use more of that!” Wei Ying had told her back in their Junior year of high-school, having dyed a section of her hair a blazing fire truck red. The conservative administration at their private school was less than pleased by the “clear act of defiance,” despite the dress code not actually including a single statement about students coloring their hair. Leave it to Wei Ying to find the loopholes in such things.
The pajamas were well-loved and a few years old. As they had started to develop into the more mature bodies of their twenties, the curve of her ass could now be seen at the hem of the bottoms - Lan Zhan swore she was going to replace them with a better-fitting set soon. Her sanity may well depend on it.
Wei Ying of course, paid no mind to such details. A pair of pajamas was nothing compared to some of the things that she and Huaisang had worn out on their escapades. She was as oblivious to the way that Lan Zhan’s eyes would linger on such nights.
“Don’t worry!” She would tell her siblings. “Lan Zhan is always looking out for me.”
“That’s not what I would call it.” Jiang Cheng had retorted.
Huaisang had even approached Lan Zhan once, and told her that “if she eye-fucked Wei Ying any harder, they might pop out of her head.”
Huaisang had always been an observant little brat.
Wei Ying perched herself up on the countertop across the kitchen from Lan Zhan, playfully swinging her legs. Her hair was still wet, clinging to skin.
“Ah, I feel so much better now.” She sighed, accepting the warm cup of tea from Lan Zhan with two hands.
“You didn’t dry your hair.” Lan Zhan states, reaching out for a damp strand sticking to Wei Ying’s cheek.
“That’s too much work, Zhan-Zhan. It will dry just as well this way.” She insisted, sipping on her tea. She made a bit of a face at the taste, scrounging up her cute nose.
“Chamomile. You need it.” She said, ignoring the urge she had to lean forward and kiss the taste from her friend’s lips and instead letting out a soft sigh. “You need dry hair, too. You’ll regret it come morning when it’s unruly.”
Wei Ying simply rolled her eyes and leaned back against the cabinet.
“Unruly is practically my middle name, A-Zhan. My untamed hair suits me perfectly well.”
To this, Lan Zhan said nothing, leaving Wei Ying to think she had won this round. Lan Zhan put the dumplings into shallow bowls, their comforting scent filling the kitchen. She brings them to the living room and sets them down on the coffee table. Dining tables were far too formal for A-Ying, who was a self-proclaimed, “floor-person.”
Wei Ying followed shortly behind, making herself comfortable in her spot on the floor, legs crossed and eyes sparkling at the promise of food. Lan Zhan sat down beside her and used her chopsticks to place a few dumplings onto Wei Ying’s plate, accepting the brilliant smile she got in return.
Wei Ying picked up a dumpling with her chopsticks and placed it on her spoon, piercing the side to release the steaming soup. She blew on it delicately before tasting it.
Lan Zhan didn’t stare at her lips. Definitely not.
The sounds Wei Ying made when she was enjoying her food should be illegal. At least, that’s what Lan Zhan thought. How someone could derive such noises from dumplings, she could never understand. However, being the only moan of satisfaction she might ever hear from A-Ying, she delighted in them all the same.
“Good?” She asked, placing another dumpling onto Wei Ying’s plate. The girl looked like she had been living off of iced coffees and vending machine snacks for the last week.
“Mmhm.” Wei Ying replied with a smile and a nod, her mouth still full.
“No talking while eating.” Lan Zhan teased.
Lan Zhan used Wei Ying’s preoccupation with her dinner as an opportunity to get up and go to the linen closet. She grabbed one of her white towels, soft with the scent of her handmade detergent still lingering on them, and a few things from the bathroom drawer.
When she returned, Wei Ying was still busy eating, confirming that she had not eaten well in recent days. It was alarming to Lan Zhan, who knew Wei Ying was naturally talented at almost everything - except taking care of herself.
Lan Zhan seated herself on the couch behind Wei Ying, one leg on either side of the other girl’s back.
“A-Zhan why aren’t you --” Wei Ying began to ask, before finding that Lan Zhan had taken the towel and began to gently dry her hair, taking individual sections into her hands and patting it dry. Wei Ying froze for a moment and turned to face Lan Zhan.
There was an unrecognizable emotion in her wide grey eyes. The sort that made Lan Zhan’s butterflies flutter with hope.
“Eat,” she instructed, and in an uncharacteristic turn of events, Wei Ying complied without complaint. She did reach for the TV remote though, pulling up a playlist that she had handcrafted for Lan Zhan their first year of college.
“Just a little something fun to mix in with all of those boring study playlists you have.” Wei Ying said, leaning in far too close to put the earbuds into Lan Zhan’s ears. Wei Ying’s breath was warm enough to be felt on her face. The way that her hands gently grazed her neck as she lowered her hands.
Lan Zhan did, of course, mix in the playlist. She would lie awake at night, listening to the songs and hoping to find some hidden meaning in them, but if there was one, it was not apparent to her.
Lan Zhan’s long, delicate hands mindlessly found themselves grazing across Wei Ying’s neck as she carefully parted her hair into sections, and the other woman’s body shivered in response.
She leaned forward, her mouth dangerously close to Wei Ying’s ear.
“Are you cold, A-Ying?” She whispered. It felt right to whisper, despite them being the only two people in the apartment.
“You should eat too, A-Zhan.” Wei Ying retorted, ignoring the question. Lan Zhan spotted a rosy tint on her cheeks, though.
“I already ate. I made these for you.” She explains, folding the towel and setting it aside. Wei Ying makes a disgruntled noise in return.
“You’re trying to make me fat, aren’t you? Is it so I’ll stop stealing your clothes, Zhan-Zhan?” She laughs, but continues to eat the dumplings until they are thoroughly, as Wei Ying would put it, demolished.
As she does so, Lan Zhan takes the small bottle of a product she picked up on her last run to the store, a curl defining oil that she thought would be perfect for Wei Ying’s hair. She lays the ends of Wei Ying’s hair across her hand and sprays thoroughly.
“What are you putting in my hair, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks curiously, trying to turn around to see. Lan Zhan simply holds her head still.
“Product. It will help with the waves in your hair and keep the ends hydrated.” Wei Ying lets out a little huff but relaxes back against the edge of the couch, letting Lan Zhan gently comb her fingers through her hair.
Lan Zhan glides her fingers up Wei Ying’s neck and towards the top of her head, rubbing in the excess product. Wei Ying’s head falls back, with her eyes closed.
“That feels really good, A-Zhan. If you ever quit your day job, you could work in a salon.” She teases, but presses back into her hands. Lan Zhan takes the liberty to help alleviate some of the stress A-Ying has been carrying around.
If she happens to daydream about what it would be like to pull Wei Ying’s hair mid-kiss and have her whimper against her lips, well, that’s nobody’s business but her own.
“Increases blood flow to the hair follicles.” She says, always looking for some sort of reason to validate her desires to touch Wei Ying. Not that she needed to, A-Ying was a particularly tactile person and had little notion of personal space.
Wei Ying just nods. She had been rather quiet all evening, at least, when considering her normal self. Lan Zhan had gotten so wrapped up in taking care of her she nearly forgot that there was a reason she needed such care to begin with.
“Are you ready to tell me about your day, A-Ying?” Lan Zhan asks softly, removing her hands from her hair and wiping them on the towel beside her.
Wei Ying pushes her dishes toward the center of the coffee table and moves onto the couch beside Lan Zhan, settling into the only spot of the couch she likes - the corner. She swings her legs up over Lan Zhan’s, and takes one of the accent pillows as a hostage in her arms before she starts to speak.
“I got fired.” She admits, a broken, hollow sort of laugh following. Her silver eyes have misted over, though, giving her away. Lan Zhan rests a hand upon her knee, a reassuring touch.
“A couple months ago I found one of our interns crying in her car after a shift at work.” She continues. “I went to check on her. The poor thing is only 19, you know. She was just trying to fluff up her resume over summer break.”
“It took me a while to get her to open up to me, A-Zhan. She was so scared.” There’s an anger trailing in her words now, one that Lan Zhan hasn’t heard in a long time. “She hooked up with Jin Zixun, that bastard. You know, that gaudy menace to society that is somehow related to the peacock of all people. That means he’s related to me, you know, thanks to Jiejie.”
Lan Zhan nods. She has heard enough of Wei Ying’s work-rants to know the name, and her family and Jin Zixuan’s had been somewhat familiar in their younger years.
“He took a video, I guess. She didn’t know.” Lan Zhan’s grip tightens on Wei Ying’s knee as she sucks in a breath. Yeah, menace to society sounds about right.
“That dickwad was using it to blackmail the poor girl into doing his work for him, goading her the whole time. She was in hell coming to work each day, and didn’t know what to do. His uncle owns the company, I’m sure you know.” Her words drip with acid and resentment. Jin Guangshan was also renowned for his mistreatment of women, there was surely no ally there.
“I convinced the girl that I could help her, and that we could take it to HR and they would have to do something about it. I should have remembered there is no such thing as justice when it comes to the greedy corporate politics of that place. They fired both of us, using my attendance record and tardiness as an excuse on my end, and claiming she was not performing up to expectations for her internship.”
Wei Ying was downright furious now, her hands clutching the pillow as though she wanted to rip it to shreds within her hands.
“After all I did for that company, Lan Zhan! After I put in months of work to help them create a software that put Wen Ruohan and Qishan out of the running. They fucking fired me.”
Wei Ying dropped her head into the pillow in front of her, her anger draining into defeat. Lan Zhan reaches for her hands, prying them off the innocent pillow, and takes them into her own. It’s enough to get A-Ying to look up at her, the tears she had tried to hold back now escaping her eyes.
“What am I going to tell the Jiangs, A-Zhan?” She asks, looking to her best friend for the answers she does not have.
“The truth.” She says honestly, and hopes that will be enough. The Jiangs have had a peculiar relationship with Wei Ying. When they were sixteen the Jiang’s parents had died in a car crash on their way to the school for a parent-teacher conference to discuss Wei Ying’s behavioral problems. Wei Ying has always blamed herself, and Jiang Cheng had said some words in anger that permanently imprinted themselves in her psyche.
“Why didn’t you tell me before, A-Ying? I would have been there for you.” Lan Zhan asks, the question having gnawed at her since Wei Ying first began her story.
Wei Ying pauses, eyes flickering down to their joined hands.
“I--” She bites down on her lower lip, sucking it into her mouth as she thinks of how to continue her sentence. “I was going to. That day -- she was here --- I didn’t want to interrupt.”
The words are so fragmented that it takes Lan Zhan a moment to piece together what Wei Ying means. A pang of guilt runs through her chest as the realization dawns on her.
“The day Chen MeiXing was over, you mean.” Lan Zhan clarifies, to be certain. Wei Ying nods, keeping her head low and refusing to make eye contact.
“You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.” She says, voice small. “Of course you are, though. You’re Lan Zhan. The best girl - no, the best human being I know. Everyone loves you.”
Not everyone. Lan Zhan thinks.
“I am not seeing anyone.” Lan Zhan clarifies. “Chen MeiXing and I are just friends.”
“Oh…” Wei Ying says, dragging it out awkwardly. “I’m sorry A-Zhan. I thought since I hadn’t seen you with anyone else that she must have been special.” Her tone is genuine, laced with sadness and remorse.
Nobody has ever been as special as you, Wei Ying. Lan Zhan thinks, giving Wei Ying a sheepish smile.
“It’s okay, A-Ying.” Lan Zhan says, squeezing Wei Ying’s hands with her own. “We will get this sorted. I will call Lan Huan in the morning.”
Lan Huan was a lawyer, making the family proud and upholding the traditional values of the Lan family. He knew how much Wei Ying meant to her. Surely, he would be able to do something.
“Thank you for dinner and everything, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying says, sitting forward to wrap her in a hug. Lan Zhan holds her breath at the closeness, Wei Ying now practically in her lap. She wraps her arms around her and returns the embrace, but it is regretfully too awkward of a position to hold for long.
“I’m also sorry.” She says, leaning back into her original position. “I haven’t been around much.” Lan Zhan already knows this, of course.
“Did I do something wrong, A-Ying?” Surely her high-spirited friend couldn’t have been that embarrassed by stumbling upon her and Chen MeiXing that it was the only thing that kept her at bay.
Her and Wei Ying had been practically inseparable since they met, and not always to Lan Zhan’s liking. During their high school years Lan Zhan was flustered by Wei Ying, and fearful that she would be a distraction from her studies. She didn’t have time to evaluate her sexuality when she was trying to juggle AP classes.
Wei Ying was relentless, though, and eventually Lan Zhan was able to see the complexities that laid behind the mask of her exuberant personality. Wei Ying was incredibly smart, stood up for those who needed it, and to those who deserved it. She didn’t follow the same sort of rules that Lan Zhan did, but something more important - her intuition.
Together they were a force to be reckoned with, competing with each other to be top of the class and Wei Ying claimed Lan Zhan as a partner for any possible project. They became a recognizable unit.
Just not the kind of unit that Lan Zhan wished to be.
“No...No of course not, A-Zhan.” Wei Ying spoke, fidgeting with her hands. It was a long-standing nervous habit of hers. “I guess I just thought if you had that girl, you wouldn’t want me around as much, you know?” She says with another forced laugh. “It sounds silly to say it.”
“Not silly.” Lan Zhan corrects, and reaches over to lift Wei Ying’s chin with her fingers.
“I’ll always want Wei Ying around.” Her voice is firm, even though her heart is rattling around inside her. Wei Ying struggled with thoughts of abandonment, a lingering symptom from the loss of her parents, and then her guardians. Lan Zhan had to make it absolutely clear to her that she always had a place in her life.
“Aiyoo, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says exapseratedly, shaking her head. “You can’t say things like that! You’ll start....I don’t know, finding me in your kitchen at 3 AM eating your leftovers on a Tuesday night. Or using that fancy-ass bathtub you have. I mean, jacuzzi jets? How selfish of you to keep them all to yourself, A-Zhan.”
Lan Zhan recognizes Wei Ying using this humor as a method of de-escalation, so she will allow it.
“Mn. You’re right. A crime against humanity.” She agrees, retracting her hand.
“Exactly!” Wei Ying agrees, and grabs the throw pillow only to toss it at Lan Zhan. “Pay for your crimes, A-Zhan!”
Lan Zhan gives into the fun and throws it back, before making a run for the kitchen. Wei Ying manages to find two other throw pillows to add to her arsenal, and Lan Zhan finds herself defenseless as Wei Ying pummels her with the three throw pillows.
They don’t hurt, of course, but she plays into it, feigning injury as Wei Ying prances about, proclaiming victory.
“Yes, yes.” Lan Zhan laughs. “A real war-hero, you are. Now put the pillows on the couch where they belong, A-Ying.” She says, but throws them back when Wei Ying’s back is turned.
“OoF!” Wei Ying exclaims, falling to her knees. “Betrayed….by my best friend….how could you…”
Lan Zhan rolls her eyes.
“A minute ago I was a war criminal, now I’m your best friend?” She snorts.
“Who says you can’t be both? Is that one of those weird Lan rules?” Wei Ying asks, getting up and putting the pillows back where they belong. Lan Zhan eyes her carefully, always on the lookout for a sneak-attack.
Lan Zhan is certain that being best friends with a war criminal would in fact be one of those “weird Lan rules,” but she just shrugs in response.
“A-Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaims, an impish grin gracing her face as she taps the side of her nose. Lan Zhan had finally come to interpret this as “I have an idea!” Which could be anything from a brilliant software idea to running to the market and buying fifty dollars worth of junk food. There was really no telling where on the spectrum it might land.
Wei Ying’s spark had apparently returned. In a way, Lan Zhan’s had, too. She had only ever been so carefree in the presence of Wei Ying.
“Yes, A-Ying?” She asks, wary of whatever trouble Wei Ying might propose next. Glancing at the clock on the stove, she sees that it’s already a little after eight. She usually keeps a strict bed-time, but given the fact that she hasn’t had one-on-one time with Wei Ying in, well, far too long, she’s open to making an exception.
“Do you remember how we used to have girl’s nights during finals week?” Wei Ying asks. Of course Lan Zhan remembers. She hadn’t really considered them “girl’s nights” so much as “returning Wei Ying into a functional human being” nights.
The first time they held one was their freshman year of college. Wei Ying had fallen into the party scene face-first and slacked off on a few classes. Lan Zhan found her sleeping in a mess of opened books, surrounded by dozens of papers filled with her unintelligible notes.
“Wei Ying,” she had called to her, lightly shaking her awake.
In response, Wei Ying had drowsily rattled off her Starbucks order. She had practically developed a dependency on cold brew.
“No more coffee.” Lan Zhan ruled, and started packing up Wei Ying’s belongings. “You need real food.”
Wei Ying lifted her head to make a terrible (and incredibly cute) pout at her best friend.
“When was the last time you washed your face?” Lan Zhan asked, not really wanting to know the answer. “No more of this. Come with me.” She dragged Wei Ying out of there, fighting off each and every excuse she had thrown at her.
She had brought Wei Ying back to the off-campus apartment she was sharing with Lan Huan, and they had a sort of spa day, at least, in the eyes of Wei Ying. She considered it basic self-care. It had turned into something of a recurring event over their college years. Sometime in their third year of college Wei Ying had added spicy snacks and alcohol to the mix, much to Lan Zhan’s dismay.
“Mn. I remember.” She answers, opening the refrigerator to get them a couple bottles of water.
“We should do that tonight, A-Zhan! Like old times. It’ll be fun.” Wei Ying urged.
Lan Zhan didn’t find any particular joy in wearing face masks or painting her nails when she was alone, but she did have to agree that most things were comparably more enjoyable when Wei Ying was around.
“Okay.” Lan Zhan agreed, resulting in a delighted squeal from her best friend. “Manicures first. I don’t want you to fuck up my nails when you’re tipsy.” She adds, reaching back into the refrigerator for some wine coolers she kept on hand, just for Wei Ying.
For someone who didn’t live here, signs of her presence in Lan Zhan’s life could be found everywhere.
“I’ll get the stuff!” Wei Ying calls to her, already halfway down the hallway and headed towards the bathroom. Lan Zhan uses the opportunity to use the step stool and get to the cabinet above her refrigerator where she keeps the artificially colored, potentially toxic foods that Wei Ying refers to as “snacks.”
They meet back at the couch, Wei Ying immediately diving her hands into the bag of Latiao*.
Lan Zhan dutifully prepares their materials for their manicures, keeping Wei Ying from getting chili dust everywhere. She sets out her own simple nude shade and Wei Ying’s favorite, a simple black polish.
“It goes with everything and makes me look twice as hot.” She had once said.
Lan Zhan wasn’t sure the nail color had anything to do with it, but could obviously agree that Wei Ying was incredibly attractive.
She makes Wei Ying wash her hands before she is allowed anywhere near her nails, to which Wei Ying responds by sticking her tongue out at her. She begins stripping her own still-intact nail polish as Wei Ying makes a trip to the kitchen.
Lan Zhan loved having Wei Ying paint her nails. She had never said so aloud, it would give A-Ying too much satisfaction. There was something delicate and intimate about it. Perhaps she put too much weight into the way that Wei Ying’s hands felt on her own, delicately moving from each digit and gently blowing on each one as she finished each coat.
Wei Ying had always been good with her hands. She had created some inventive and inspiring works during their art classes in school. She did an equal job with Lan Zhan’s nails, focusing on each and every layer as though it was a piece of art and not a simple manicure that would be chipping in a couple week’s time.
You love feeling like her masterpiece.
It was more than that, though. It was domestic and simple and something that almost allowed her to imagine, just for a moment, that they weren’t two best friends, but that Wei Ying was here to paint Lan Zhan’s nails each and every time. That she wasn’t just staying over for the evening, but that they shared this home together. That Wei Ying might kiss her hand when she had finished, and trail those kisses up her arm, and sprinkle them all over Lan Zhan’s face until finally settling on her lips. That Lan Zhan would laugh against her mouth, caught in Wei Ying’s trap with wet nails, at her mercy until they dried.
What she would give, for something as simple as that.
Some sort of emotion must have crossed her face, because Wei Ying had set down Lan Zhan’s second painted hand, looking up at her as though searching for something.
“You know, A-Zhan…” Wei Ying started, reaching for her phone with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “If you’re not dating that girl, perhaps I can help you find another one.” She offered.
The air was punched out of Lan Zhan’s lungs. Her daydream shatters within her mind’s eye.
“Have you tried this app?” She asks innocently, showing her phone to Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan looks, seeing a popular queer dating app called HER. She had heard of it, of course, but she’d never been a dating app person, for obvious reasons. Like the fact that she is a terrible conversationalist, and in love with her idiot best friend.
“No.” She answers, giving Wei Ying a look of disapproval.
“Come on, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying whines, giving her a gentle push on the shoulder. Lan Zhan wants to push her back. Ideally with Wei Ying’s hands ending up pinned above her head and Lan Zhan’s mouth on hers.
Luckily, she has had a lot of practice exercising restraint,
“There’s some really hot girls on this one. I mean, it’s sort of hard to find someone in your league, but it’s worth a shot. Wait- what type of girls are you even into?”
Lan Zhan doesn’t answer the question, still stuck on the earlier part of Wei Ying’s argument.
“A-Ying.” She says dryly. Thinking she’s caught her friend in a lie. “How would you know that there are ‘hot girls’ on that app?”
“What do you mean, ZhanZhan?” Wei Ying asks, confused. “You know I’ve used dating apps.” She looks at Lan Zhan like she’s grown a second head.
“A-Ying.” She says again, pausing to carefully consider her next words. “You know that this is an app for girls who like girls, right?”
“Aaanddd?” Wei Ying asks, like she’s known that the whole time.
“Aaaadddd….” Lan Zhan mimics her. “You’re straight, Wei Ying. You’ve got a boyfriend and everything.”
Wei Ying is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, watching Lan Zhan’s face carefully. She remains that way for an uncomfortably long time before breaking out in laughter.
“A-Zhan,” she says through her laughter. “Did you sneak a bit to drink when I left you in the kitchen, or is this some kind of weird joke? A boyfriend? Since when?” She asks, reaching for her drink and taking a swig of it.
Lan Zhan stares blankly at her. A joke? How could she possibly joke about a matter like this. Her skin is suddenly clammy and uncomfortable.
Wei Ying’s face starts to shift as she realizes that Lan Zhan is in fact, not playing a joke on her. She crawls closer to Lan Zhan, her knees knocking over the closed bottles of polish that sit between them.
She sits back on her heels, inches from Lan Zhan’s face.
“You really think I am straight, A-Zhan?” Wei Ying asks, her silver eyes glued to Lan Zhan’s face.
Lan Zhan nods, unable to speak. She glances down at her hands. Are they dry, yet?
“A-Zhan. I thought you were the smart one out of the two of us.” Wei Ying laughs again, breathy and bewildered. Wei Ying was always saying things like that, despite them both being high-achievers.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan….” Wei Ying sighs, and places a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get one thing straight.” She says, her brilliant silver eyes meeting Lan Zhan’s of amber gold. “I’m not.”
Lan Zhan is almost certain at this point that this is all some sort of strange daydream. She’s known Wei Ying for a decade now. They’ve been friends for everything. Had she been in the closet this whole time? But, why? Lan Zhan, Nie Huiasang, Wen Qing...they were all out and proud about it. What was she hiding from?
“This is really a groundbreaking discovery to you, isn’t it?” Wei Ying says, seeing the state of shock that Lan Zhan has entered. Is this what a fugue state feels like?
Wei Ying covers her face with her hands.
“I go to the parades, Lan Zhan.” Right, because you wanted to support your friends. “I go to gay bars with Huaisang all the time.” Straight girls love doing that...don’t they? “I got caught kissing MianMian at that party Junior year and Wang Lingjiao told basically the entire school.” You were drunk, it doesn’t count. “I’ve known I’m bisexual since I saw Pirates of the Caribbean in the third grade!”Wasn’t everyone a little gay for that film?
“I confessed to you, A-Zhan!” Wei Ying finally says, her voice cracking with frustration. “The night you turned twenty-one. I convinced you to have a couple drinks to celebrate. You were buzzed and trying to force feed me the bar’s poor excuse for chicken tenders and I confessed to you.”
Lan Zhan’s brain is broken by this statement. Wei Ying...her Wei Ying, had confessed to her?
Lan Zhan did not remember much of her twenty-first birthday. Her brother had warned her that Lan’s had an incredibly poor alcohol tolerance, but Wei Ying was so excited about finally being able to buy her a drink, she just couldn’t tell her no. They had gone to some cheap campus bar with shitty lighting and even shittier food.
But Lan Zhan certainly didn’t remember a confession.
“Wei Ying.” She says, her voice low and foreign. “I didn’t know.” She hadn’t known that Wei Ying liked girls, and sure as hell didn’t know that Wei Ying liked her.
Wei Ying looks down, picking at one of the buttons on her top.
“You passed out before you could say anything.” She continues. “I was never sure if that was real, or if you just didn’t feel the same and didn’t want to hurt my feelings. When you didn’t say anything about it the next day...well, I thought that was your answer.”
“No.” Lan Zhan says firmly, reaching out for Wei Ying’s hand, placing it atop hers. She meets her eyes, trying her hardest to convey the depth of her words to her best friend. “Wei Ying….I didn’t know.”
“Well...” Wei Ying says, the word drawn out as she places her opposite hand on top of Lan Zhan’s. “Now you do, not that it changes anything.”
A pain strikes Lan Zhan’s heart.
It didn’t just change anything.
It changed everything.
“Wait.” Lan Zhan says, trying to gain control of all the information that has been thrust upon her in the last few moments. “Before, you said…” She closes her eyes, reducing the amount of sensory input in order to better compute her thoughts. “Wen Ning?”
“Wen Ning?” Wei Ying chimes back, in her same innocent and confused tone.
“He is your boyfriend.” Lan Zhan states. It’s a fact. Lan Zhan had seen the flowers at Wei Ying’s apartment, addressed clearly from Wen Ning to his “loving girlfriend.” He was also the only other person that Wei Ying spent time with these days, with Huisang being overseas to handpick a fabric manufacturer for their clothing line.
“Wen Ning?” Wei Ying repeats again. “What on earth gave you that idea, Lan Zhan? Are you certain you’re okay?”
Lan Zhan shakes her head. Nothing about this seems to be okay.
She tells Wei Ying about the flowers, how she saw them on the counter, about how she had seen Wen Ning and her posting on social media together all the time.
“Oh that!” Wei Ying says, suddenly remembering. “That wasn’t...whatever you think it was.”
“Wen Ning... is like us and his co-workers had been harassing him about never bringing a girl to their work events. His boss is a bit of conservative ass and Wen Ning isn’t exactly out, yet. We went to a company dinner together under the guise of me being his date, and he sent me the flowers in thanks.”
Lan Zhan reaches for her bottle of water on the coffee table, sipping it slowly to ease the dry, tight feeling in her throat.
Here are the life-altering things that Lan Zhan has come to know in the last ten minutes.
Her best friend, the girl she is unconditionally in love with, likes girls.
Said best friend confessed to her, and she was too drunk off her ass to remember it.
Said best friend is not dating Wen Ning.
She stays silent for a moment, wrapping her mind around all of it.
“You really didn’t know.” Wei Ying marvels, her eyes still carefully watching Lan Zhan.
“No, A-Ying. I had no idea you--” She can’t even finish the thought. Wei Ying shifts, sitting with her legs crossed in front of Lan Zhan. She copies Lan Zhan’s earlier motion, lifting her chin gently with her hand and peering into her eyes.
“It’s okay, A-Zhan.” She whispers, but the words echo through Lan Zhan’s entire being. “I know that you don’t feel the same about me. I accepted it three years ago. I am grateful just to be your friend.”
Something snaps in Lan Zhan, and she moves both of her hands to cup Wei Ying’s face, drawing their mouths together into a kiss fueled with all of the emotions she has held back from her best friend since the day they met.
Wei Ying gasps against her lips, and Lan Zhan’s brain has surely turned to goo by now. She drops anything and everything else from her mind and uses what little focus she has left to kiss her, her Wei Ying, her Wei Ying who loves her back.
The kiss is somehow sweet and rough at the same time, with the two of them trying to get as close to one another as they possibly can. Lan Zhan’s hands reach back into the very hair she had hand-dried earlier that evening. She tugs gently, just like she imagined, making the other girl moan against her lips. Wei Ying’s hands had, at some point, also found their way onto Lan Zhan. They caressed her face, grazed her neck, and wrapped around her torso to pull her in.
When they finally broke apart to breathe, clutching onto one another like a lifeline, their eyes connected.
“I do, A-Ying. I do feel the same way.” Lan Zhan verbalizes, in case the kiss alone wasn’t enough of a confession. “I have loved you since the day I met you.”
To finally say the words aloud feels like a hundred-pound weight lifted from her soul. She had been carrying around the strain of an unrequited love for too long.
Wei Ying leans forward, touching their foreheads together, but never breaking their shared gaze.
“I have loved you too, A-Zhan. Each and every day.”
Lan Zhan laughs in disbelief, leaning forward to kiss her best friend once more.