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There were upsides and downsides to having lovers with similar personalities. For all her domineering qualities, Mai wondered if she was truly a masochist in regards to her life choices, along with her taste in partners. Between Joey’s unbridled fervor and Vivian’s untamed enthusiasm, combined with their quick tempers and quicker tendencies to throw punches at the nearest person who would talk shit, the only thing hotter than her partners’ heads was the green tea Vivian brewed for the three of them every morning.
In retrospect, the momentum had been building for the better part of a decade, but Mai rightfully ignored the boy’s feelings, and continued to—or rather, attempted to—ignore them when he crossed the threshold into adulthood and busied himself with scattered semesters between studying, cleaning gym equipment, and stocking shelves at night when he wasn’t picking at the small winnings of every other card tournament. She was shocked when Joey made a public confession in front of the entire auditorium after he accepted his degree in kinesiology; Mai wanted to leap onto the stage and punch him, but Vivian was right there beside her clapping.
“It’s not surprising he still likes you after all these years,” Vivian had whispered. “Bit of a dork, but he has good taste.”
“It won’t work,” Mai had hissed, “I am older than him and I’m dating you.”
“He’s a 25 year old personal trainer and you’re a washed up 33-year-old hag. You should be thankful for the blessing.”
“You are dating the 33-year-old hag, you hag,” Mai had said. Her ears burned from the embarrassment of the entire situation. “You and I are together.”
“But are you interested too?” Vivian had asked, tilting her head in his direction, where he had been staring awkwardly for Mai’s reaction from the stage. “Don’t be afraid to be honest. I might be the possessive type, but I’m not really jealous.”
Mai turned away and hid her face in her hands.
“This isn’t happening.”
“You better say something, Miss Valentine. Everyone is staring at you now,” Vivian had said slyly. “Like a cute rom-com. C’mon, main love interest. What have you to say to Mr. Puppy Love up there?”
Mai reacted in the only way that was appropriate.
“Joseph Wheeler, you jackass, I am going to slap the shit out of you!”
Truth be told, she had also wanted to throttle Vivian right then and there for going along with it, but between Joseph’s knowledge of the many ways to build up and screw up a human body and Vivian’s background in martial arts, she knew she wouldn’t have fared well if she went through with the violent decision. Not that either party had the heart or the willpower to resist Mai when all was said and done.
Mai was assured everything was amicable, but being assured of something and what a situation really is were two different things. Both of her partners could be loose cannons when it suited them. So far as Mai knew, she was the first serious relationship Joseph had, and Vivian wasn’t exactly the best person at reading a room or respecting personal boundaries.
She suspected that would be one of the great undoings of their seemingly perfect relationship.
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
Mai sat between them on the couch wearing one of Joey’s T-shirts over a pair of neon pink yoga pants. Joey sat to her left and wore a plain white T-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants while Vivian sat to her right, wearing a yellow tank top and a tight pair of red gym shorts with white trim. It was movie night, because every Friday was movie night, and tonight was Joey’s pick in the rotation for that month.
“That movie was so dumb,” Vivian said during the rolling credits of an old kung fu film that had been filmed in the 1980s. Joey was visibly hurt. It was one of his favorites.
“What? Why?” Joey whined. “You said yourself those fight scenes were really well choreographed.”
Mai looked to the bottom of the plastic, pepto-bismol pink serving bowl and reached for the last remnants of the half-popped kernels to distract herself. She knew it was just a matter of time before they dropped the amicable act and got into an argument.
This is the beginning of the end, Mai thought morosely.
“Yes, but the ending missed its mark,” Vivian said.
“What are you talking about? The hero got to live in the end,” Joey said.
“Exactly. That’s why it didn’t work,” Vivian replied matter-of-factly. “American studios are too optimistic with the their action films. In a proper wushu movie, the hero must die in the final battle, otherwise he didn’t truly sacrifice everything for his cause. You have to be willing to throw yourself into the fire so the future generations can create a new world from those ashes. That final sacrifice is what makes the hero’s actions noteworthy.”
Mai cringed at the statement. Joey knew better than anyone what it was like to make that final sacrifice, and she was expecting him to retort in a similar fashion.
“Hmm,” Joey hummed, putting his fingers under his chin. “That’s an interesting point. I guess it would’ve made a harder impact that way. He did get knocked around a lot in the last two fights too, so having him die from all that blunt force trauma woulda been more realistic. Hollywood really overestimates how many blows a person can take to the head without falling over.”
Mai nibbled on the edge of a kernel. She had expected something more heated from him, and something about his agreement made her wary.
“See?” Vivian said.
“I still like it,” Joey said with a smile. He reached for the remote and pressed the eject button. “Even though the dialogue is pretty cheesy.”
“Heh,” Vivian uttered, before looking at Mai. “I’m gonna make some drinks. You want your usual, Mai?”
Mai nodded as she put another kernel in her mouth. Her “usual” was a strawberry daiquiri with a slice of lime while Vivian would probably make herself some sweet concoction of orange juice and whatever clear liquor she had stocked in the cabinet.
“And you, Joey?” Vivian asked. “What do you like to drink?”
“Oh, uh, nothing,” Joey said, putting his hand to the back of his head. “I mean, not nothing, but I mean I don’t drink alcohol.”
Mai’s rear molars stalled around a kernel.
Oh shit, Mai thought.
“Whaaat?” Vivian gawked. “Seriously? Not even a light beer? We have a couple in the fridge.”
“No, thank you,” Joey declined politely. “But if you have an energy drink, I’ll take that instead.”
Shit, shit, Mai thought. This was where things were going to break. This was going to be the tipping point. Vivian would undoubtedly apply pressure to Joey and interrogate him as to why he was refusing her offer, and then it would dig into the unpleasant history with his father, at which point Vivian would tell him to get over it, at which point Joey would tell Vivian she has no idea what she’s talking about, and then—
“Aiya, I say that stuff is worse for your health than the alcohol!” Vivian chuckled. “But I think we still have half of that case you left here last time you stayed over. I’ll go check.”
Vivian placed her hands on top of the back rest of the couch and pushed herself up into a showy handstand, pushing herself off and flipping once in the air before landing on her feet.
“Nice,” Joey complimented. Vivian bowed before looking back at Mai.
“Mai, since I’m heading to the kitchen, you mind tossing that bowl over to me too, or do you plan on hoarding all those kernels in your mouth like a hamster?”
Mai stared at her dumbly before she shook her head.
“U-uh, no,” Mai said. “I mean, no, I’m not going to eat the kernels. I’ll put the bowl away myself, and help you carry the drinks. Joey, put on the next movie. Your choice again.”
“Sure thing,” Joey said, picking through the small pile of DVDs. Mai hurriedly got to her feet and walked up to meet Vivian on the other side of the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen.
“What was that?” Mai hissed.
“What was what?” Vivian asked, reaching into the liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of vodka.
“You’re getting him an energy drink?” Mai asked.
“Yes...?” Vivian said.
“Why?”
“Because he asked for one?” Vivian said with a shrug, closing the liquor cabinet and walking over to the fridge.
“You know what I mean!”
“Actually, no,” Vivian said, pulling out a bottle of orange juice, strawberry daiquiri mix, one lime, and a single 16 oz. aluminum can with an edgy logo against a black backdrop. “You’re confusing me. What’s going on with you?”
“You never let me turn down a drink!” Mai said, dropping the plastic pink bowl in the sink with a hollow clatter. “You always give me shit when I tell you I’m not in the mood for one!”
“Because I know you’re lying to me the first time you say it,” Vivian said, reaching forward and poking the tip of Mai’s nose, “and I hardly give you shit. Whenever I ask ‘Are you sure?’ or ‘Are you really going to let me drink all by myself?’, you always change your mind and end up asking for one.”
“Then why did you not ask Joey if he was sure?”
“Because he told me, twice, he didn’t want a drink. That sounds pretty sure to me,” Vivian said, twirling on her heel and retrieving two glasses from the cupboard above the counter.
“So why do you always pressure me into drinking, then?” Mai whined. “Why don’t you ever take what I say at face value?”
“Because I know there’s always something else to what you say,” Vivian said, taking out a tablespoon and two thin, black straws. “Plus, I only ask you if you want a drink when I know you obviously need one, even though you won’t say you do.”
Mai wanted to say something then, but she couldn’t find the words and her cheeks puffed in frustration.
You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?
Yet that was probably why Mai was so agitated. Vivian did have her figured out, and in some ways, it hurt to hear. After all these years, Mai was still the kind of person who couldn’t allow herself to feel vulnerable or seen when everything was already so obvious.
“You also give into peer pressure easily,” Vivian giggled as she mixed their drinks. “You like to act like you’re hard, but you’re kind of a pushover.”
Mai gasped, as if she was offended.
Actually, no.
She was, indeed, offended.
You really think you have me all figured out, don’t you?!
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
Mai refused to admit she was a pushover, and life went on. She and Vivian signed the papers on a three bedroom condo in Domino while Joey paid his part of the utilities. In the matter of a year, he managed to establish a devout following in several fitness circles, started his own personal training business, and posted regular tutorials to his ViewTube channel.
“Maybe we should be worried,” Vivian had joked once as she held Mai’s ankles for a round of sit-ups in the living room. They were the image of yin and yang, with Mai in a white tank top and black leggings while Vivian wore a black sports bra and white shorts.
“So many of his clients are divorced women in their forties. Is there any wonder? To be all alone in your own home with a blonde stud lifting weights in your living room and telling you how to squat? Ha!”
“Gross,” Mai huffed, pushing against the back of her head with her fingers as she sat up for her fiftieth and final rep. “He acts like a decent guy now, but you didn’t know him when he was a little punk. He had bad breath, and pimples on his forehead, and would keep confusing my breasts for my eyes.”
“You have eyes?” Vivian asked, making it obvious where she was leveling her gaze. Mai undid her scrunchie from her hair and tossed it in Vivian’s face.
“Shut up.”
Vivian let go of her ankles and Mai leaned back on her hands while the scrunchie rested between them.
“You’re so sensitive. I’m just teasing,” Vivian laughed. “Joey is a good guy. He wouldn’t do anything behind your back, and I’m sure it would be bad for his business if one of his clients went on the internet blabbing about a hook-up. Instructor-student boundaries, personal ethics, all that jazz.”
“You are the last person on Earth to talk about ethics, Miss Back-Breaker,” Mai said as she picked her scrunchie off the floor. Vivian gasped at that.
“Hey now, I did not break Solomon Mutou’s back,” Vivian said, putting her hands on her hips with a frown. “He threw his own back out, because he doesn’t stretch regularly, then I relieved the tension in his lumbar—”
“Just to put it back again,” Mai said. Vivian glared.
“Rude!” Vivian said. “I fixed my mistake, okay? I was jealous and petty back then, but everything is better now. Joey even says that he’s been doing well since he’s been following the Tai Chi regimen I recommended.”
Mai wrung the scrunchie between her hands with an uneasy grimace. Vivian’s temper was better than it had been several years ago, and Mai acknowledged she didn’t have much, if any, ground to lecture anyone on ethics.
“You’re getting that ugly look you have when you’re taking yourself on a guilt trip. Stop it,” Vivian said. She leaned forward on her knees and cupped Mai’s chin in her hand. “No jokes, just truth. Joey is doing well and he’s really popular with a lot of people, but he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or mess around behind your back. He’s a loyal guy, and he loves you. Just as much as I do. So don’t worry about it.”
Mai smiled when Vivian placed her lips to her own and gave her a hug, only for Mai to frown into her shoulder as they embraced on the floor.
But am I someone worth being loyal to?
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
It was 8:30 in the evening when Mai returned home after shooting of a promotional video for a perfume line, dressed in her iconic attire from way back in Battle City (and thankful the clothes still fit well after a decade). During the ride home on her motorcycle, she had been looking forward to winding down with her lovers with a quick snack and watching a TV drama on the couch before retiring to the bedroom for some much needed rest.
“I’m home,” Mai said as she closed the door behind her. She didn’t hear a response from either of her partners, which was strange. She had seen both Vivian and Joey’s cars in their designated spaces in the parking lot, so they should have been here. The lights were on in the living room and kitchen, also.
She picked up an ambient sound and instantly recognized it as Vivian’s go-to soundtrack whenever she was practicing Qigong. Which was odd, because Vivian usually did it out on the balcony in the morning, or she would move the furniture in the living room to make room for her exercise. Yet she was nowhere to be seen outside or inside.
“That’s weird,” Mai muttered to herself. “What—”
“Oh god, Viv!” Joey groaned from Vivian’s room, “Keep doing that. Right there. Ahh!”
The color drained from Mai’s face.
No.
No way.
Absolutely no way were they—
“It’s so tight,” Vivian said. “You want me to keep going?”
The color returned to Mai’s face as she clenched her fists at her hips, feeling her cheeks, her ears, her eyes burning.
How dare they!
How dare they have sex—without involving her.
Without consulting her.
“Yes,” Joey moaned. “Just, please. Keep pressing that spot.”
Mai’s hands flew to her hair, digging her fingers into the voluminous blonde mane as she slowly stalked down the hall to the door of Vivian’s room. She bit her lip, feeling a sheen of wetness at the corners of her eyes. They were not strangers to sex by any means, but Vivian and Joey never did anything with each other during their intimate intervals with Mai. They had never expressed wanting to do anything with one another if she wasn’t there. So why—
“You sure?” Vivian drawled lowly in a way that made Mai’s heart flutter and crack. “It’s gonna go in pretty far.”
“Yes,” Joey breathed deeply. “Yes, please. Whatever it takes. I need this. Please, don’t stop.”
Mai’s hands shook with her breath as she leaned against the wall for balance. Why was she so upset? Why was she so shocked? The three of them had been together for a year now, but she didn’t think Vivian and Joey would want to be involved with each other in that way. Not without her. All that assurance, that loyalty, was it a lie? Was this something that had developed without her knowing? Was the evidence in front of her the entire time? Was she so selfish, so self-absorbed, so stupid, for thinking these lines wouldn’t be crossed? Did the lines even exist to begin with? They had talked about their boundaries, their expectations, the rules they had set for themselves. So why did they break them? Why did they go behind her back? She would have understood if they had asked.
… Wouldn’t she?
“Heh, you’re just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” Vivian giggled. “Alright, I’m going to need you to relax. Take deep breaths.”
As she heard Joey moan, exhale, and shudder, Mai jammed her palm against her right eye to keep a tear from leaking out and ruining her mascara. She wasn’t sure if she would have accepted them doing this if they had expressed it to her, but she knew damn well she didn’t appreciate that they had just gone ahead and done it without a second thought to her own feelings.
Another thought came to mind. Was this even the first time they had done it alone? Or were they already doing it without her noticing it was happening on the side? Could it even be thought of as ‘on the side’? Did they think it was okay? Was it implied? Was she valid for feeling so betrayed, so hurt, when they were already involved in this kind of arrangement?
Mai didn’t want to say anything.
She wasn’t even certain of what she wanted to say.
She just knew she needed to take action.
Without a word, she gripped the door knob firmly and swung it open with force. Mai was prepared for the worst, but she was not prepared for what she saw.
“Oh, hey Mai!” Joey grinned and waved from his place on the bed. “Did the perfume commercial thing go well?”
“Uhm… yeah,” Mai said, digging her hand into her hair and scratching the side of her head. “What the heck are you two doing?”
Vivian had lit several sticks of sandalwood incense on the nightstands framing the bed while Joey rested face-down on the comforter with his back exposed. Mai had absolutely been expecting to see Vivian straddling Joey from behind, but Mai didn’t expect to see two sizable ice packs on either side of Joey’s torso, nor had she been expecting to see him with his pants still on, or for Vivian to still be wearing clothes.
“Vivian is working some kinks out,” Joey said sheepishly.
“Golden Boy here pulled a muscle in his back when he picked up a medicine ball the wrong way,” Vivian said in a scolding tone, lightly slapping the back of Joey’s head. “I told you that CrossFit crap is garbage! Stick to the stuff I show you. People have been practicing kung fu for thousands of years for a reason!”
“But you gotta try new stuff, Viv,” Joey said, still grinning sheepishly into his arms. “How can I tell my clients what to do and not do in good conscience if I’m not willing to try these things out for myself?”
“All that bravado, and what does it get you?” Vivian depressed her fingers into his lower back.
“Ahh!”
“Yes, exactly,” Vivian said, moving her fingers back and forth with each word, as though she were pressing a button. “You. Listen. To. Me. From. Now. On!”
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”
“Stop being so tense! Breathe!”
“I’m trying, Viv!”
“So... he was moaning because he hurt himself at work,” Mai sighed, leaning against the door frame and placing her hand to her chest in relief. “Thank goodness.”
Joey and Vivian looked at Mai, then to each other, then back to Mai. She became woefully aware of their queried expressions and raised her hands in a defensive posture.
“I-I’m not happy he hurt himself, of course!” Mai stuttered. “I just mean… I heard him… in your room… and I was worried… but I’m happy to see you’re helping him feel better. Mm hmm!”
Mai smiled in such a way that the corners of her mouth nearly touched her ears. Joey just smiled at her knowingly, but Vivian continued to squint in confusion.
“Okay, but why did you look relieved when we told you—oh,” Vivian eyes widened. “Oooh, that’s why you’re acting weird. You thought I was sticking something up his butt, didn’t you?”
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
In many respects, Mai was thankful Joey and Vivian operated on the same wavelength. Vivian finally had a running partner in the early mornings, before the sun rose, which meant Mai could finally sleep in and wake up at a normal time, which was anytime after the sun had risen. With her intensive martial arts background, Mai had no worry for Vivian’s safety beforehand, but knowing Joey was with her on every run, Mai really could sleep soundly until the usual scent of rice, eggs, green tea, and coffee reached her nose and signaled it was time for breakfast.
Mai groggily got out of bed and staggered into the kitchen, being familiar enough with the condo’s layout not to bump into anything, but not wholly being aware of her surroundings until her first sip of coffee at the dining table. As Mai’s awareness came into full, she realized there was an addition to their usual meal alongside the eggs and rice.
“… Steak?”
“Yes!” Vivian and Joey said in tandem, both taking their seats and serving themselves bigger portions than Mai was used to seeing them eat.
“Are you both loading up for something?” Mai asked, spooning a normal serving of rice and eggs into her bowl.
“Yes,” Joey muttered with a mouthful of red meat and eggs.
“We signed up for a Spartan Race. They’re holding an event not far from here,” Vivian said between shoveling food into her mouth with a set of chopsticks.
“We gotta start now. We’re already behind on training,” Joey said. “The race is in a month.”
“Isn’t that one of those obstacle course races where you have to climb over walls and swing on ropes and crawl through mud and they make you do push-ups every other mile?”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be fun!” Joey said. Mai couldn’t comprehend how he wasn’t being the least bit sarcastic about the statement.
“There’s still a sale on tickets if you want in,” Vivian murmured through her food. “Joey and I are doing the ultra marathon course as a team, but there’s a 5K obstacle course too if you want to do that.”
“No thanks,” Mai said behind her coffee cup. “That’s way too much ‘fun’ for me. The two of you can have it all.”
Vivian and Joey merely nodded in understanding over their food bowls, and they didn’t say much after that.
Mai, true to her word, didn’t take part in their intense training regimen and diet for the rest of the month, save for taking a small strip of red meat for an omelet or mixing a small dose of probiotic powder for her fruit smoothies. Though it only took one week for Mai to speak up and say something about their current arrangement.
“OH MY GOD,” Mai gagged. “If the two of you are working out like beasts, then keep your laundry separate from mine! Your clothes are rank!”
“We shower and change two, sometimes three times a day,” Vivian said with her arms akimbo while Joey rubbed the back of his head with a simper, “and Joey is using the amber musk roll-on I gave him for his birthday. We smell fantastic.”
“You two might smell fine, but your dirty laundry does not!” Mai screeched. “This entire basket smells like armpits and vinegar!”
She held the overstuffed basket at arm’s distance and small droplets leaked out of the bottom onto the floor.
“Ugh! And you made everything wet!”
“That’s what she said,” Vivian muttered under her hand. Joey chuckled and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Nyeh heh heh.”
“Ha ha, hilarious,” Mai droned. “Since you two find this all so amusing, then you can go ahead and do the laundry today.”
Overriding every instinct telling her to let go of the pungent, damp fabric in her hands, Mai collected it into a large ball and chucked the mass sweaty athletic socks and sports bras at their heads.
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
“I saw the video Joey uploaded of the race on his ViewTube channel,” Tea said over the phone. “That obstacle course was crazy!”
“A full day of slogging through the mud and carrying sand bags for a shiny belt buckle and limited edition T-shirt,” Mai said as she reclined on the sofa, inspecting her cuticles and slanting her lips to the side when she saw there were still traces of dirt on her nails from last week. Tea had been booked solid in NYC and couldn’t arrange a flight to see the race in person, but Joey had worn a body cam for a live stream so she (and all of Joey’s subscribers) could watch everything unfold in real time.
“You should have seen the action from the sidelines.”
“That’s right, the whole gang was there with you too, right?” Tea laughed. “All of you were piled up in a little golf cart.”
“Mmm hmm,” Mai hummed. Though Duke’s name was on the rental contract, Duke, Tristan, Serenity, Yugi, his grandfather, Ryou and herself had all chipped in for that golf cart. Vivian and Joey may have been gung ho about running over obstacles on foot for 30 miles, but the rest of them were not as motivated to do so.
“Never in a million years did I think they would team up for a race. I would have lost that bet,” Tea said, “but seeing all the cam footage, and the pictures Tristan took, they worked pretty well as a team. I guess that’s kind of second nature to them now, with how things are working out with you, huh?”
Mai bit the lining of her cheek at the statement. She wasn’t sure if Tea was saying Mai was high maintenance or if it was some sort of cheeky comment about threesomes. She then placed her knuckles to her forehead. Or maybe Tea was just making small talk and Mai was being too sensitive.
“I’m glad Viv has someone who can keep up with her,” Mai said. “If it weren’t for Joey, I think she probably would have signed me up for the half-marathon without my input.”
“Haha, yeah, she’s pretty intense. But from the stream, it looks like she’s really mellowed out since when we first met her.”
Mai felt herself go rigid at the words.
Vivian has always been good, in her own way. You all just didn’t want to give her a second chance back then.
Despite the dirt, Mai bit the nail of her thumb. Joey and Tristan had been Yugi’s bullies, but they had become Tea and Yugi’s friends. Duke had stuffed Joey in a dog suit and picked a fight with Yugi, but then they became friends. Ryou was possessed by some sort of demon and set up the world’s worst RPG campaign and yet they remained friends. Then their was that entire mess with the Kaibas and the theme park…
Everybody was friends with everybody, apparently, but Mai remembered how standoffish everyone had been once she announced she was dating Vivian, and in hindsight, noticed how everyone suddenly started acting more welcoming towards her over the past year after the announcement of their relationship with Joey. Everyone was so happy for her, for them, saying how supportive they were of the three of them, how glad they were for them, how admirable it was that they were being so open and honest.
It almost made Mai sick thinking about it. Were they really happy for all three of them, or were they just going along with it to keep friendships from getting caustic? Then again, did Mai really want that honesty, if that really were their feelings about them? Did she really want animosity and stigmatization?
Or was she just overthinking it, being paranoid and self-conscious. Maybe a cigar was just a cigar and maybe everyone really was genuinely happy for them. They had come to the race to show their support, after all, and everyone greeted them at the finish line, with Vivian and Joey covered in 30-plus miles of dirt, sweat, and whatever else they picked up on the obstacle course—and had proceeded to cover Mai in it when they jumped on top of her in a celebratory group hug.
“You guys look really good together,” Tea said, breaking Mai out of her internal session of self-loathing. “Were you overwhelmed though? You looked like you were crying a little bit towards the end of the video.”
“They ruined my shirt, and my skirt, and my shoes, and my hat, and my hair, and my nails, and my makeup,” Mai said. “For a full month, I put up with their stinky gym clothes, their carb loading, their protein shakes, their heavy weights and sandbags littered all over our condo, and then when I think we can put it all behind us, not only did they ruin my outfit, but they told me they signed up for another race in six months so they have more time to train for it! So I get to deal with that now.”
“So basically, you’re dating two jocks at once?” Tea said in a succinct tone. “Haha, I guess you have a type!”
Mai laughed in a manner that was strained, transitioned the conversation to something else, and banged her head against the coffee table when she hung up fifteen minutes later.
Crap, I really do have a type, she thought. Am I that predictable?
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
“Not predictable,” Isis said, “but also not surprising.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Mai asked over the rim of her purple-tinted sunglasses, nearly holding the lid of her iced coffee in a death grip and several psi from making it explode all over the pavement.
“Are you saying I’m easy or loose?”
“You like it when things run hot,” Isis said simply with a shrug. “That was why it didn’t work out between us.”
“Because you’re a cold bitch,” Mai said with a straight face.
“Aromantic,” Isis said. “Which I would have disclosed with you, or Seto, or Max, had I known it myself at the time.”
Mai frowned and sipped her drink in silence.
They stood side-by-side, leaning against a rail at a viewing area by the beach with the setting sun at their backs. Mai had her hair tied up in a pony tail while she wore a purple bikini top and matching shorts with flip flops, while Isis wore a pair of yellow-tinted sunglasses, white sandals, a white bikini set, and a turquoise sarong at her waist. Isis flipped her hair over shoulder, adjusted the strap to her white clutch purse, and took a sip of the taro boba tea she had ordered from the drink stand that loomed several meters away. Mai would have thought she looked quite pretty against the orange hues of the sunset, if they didn’t have any prior history with one another.
They had dated. They had been a couple. They had shared a bed and an apartment and two solid years of their lives, and Mai had been miserable for most of it. For someone who was so detail oriented, Isis had never been attentive to her needs or the least bit inclined to perform any service that didn’t suit her in some way. Their first real fight had been when Mai told Isis it wouldn’t kill her to make breakfast for the two of them every once in a while. Isis said she didn’t see the point in doing so when Mai was perfectly capable of cooking for herself, and to stop being so needy all the time.
When she looked back on that argument, Mai realized it was a microcosm of everything that was wrong with their cohabitation. Mai had wanted gifts, acts of service, and constant affirmation, none of which Isis wholly gave her, as Isis thought her own commitment and time with Mai was enough (it wasn’t). The time they spent together wasn’t at all what Mai wanted or imagined outside the bedroom, and even their arguments weren’t heated or passionate—Mai would lose her temper and yell, and Isis would swiftly shut it all down with a cold shoulder and a colder silent treatment.
But whenever Mai had brought up her issues to Tea, or Serenity, or anyone else, they just said Mai needed to be patient or see things from Isis’ perspective, and eventually the relationship would work out (it didn’t).
After they had reached their breaking point, surpassed it, patched it up, and broke it again, Mai and Isis agreed they were too stubborn and fixed in their ways for things to work between them, and that was the last they expected to see of each other. Except they did see each other again, when Isis called her two-and-a-half years later, sobbing about what a disaster her last relationship with "Max" (Pegasus) had been, and admitted she had no one else she could talk to who could understand. Which had put Mai in an odd spot, as she didn’t feel any need or want to be sympathetic towards Isis. Yet she had also never known Isis to be the kind of person to cry over anything, much less a failed relationship. Had Isis been talking to mid-20s Mai, she would have just told Isis she reaped what she sowed and hung up without a second thought. But Isis had been talking a Mai who had been approaching her 30s, and had just gotten into a relationship Vivian, and was also somewhat worried about messing it up because she frankly didn’t know what she did and didn’t mess up with Isis without there being an obvious bias between them.
“I think you two should talk to a couples therapist.”
Mid-20s Mai definitely wouldn’t have; Isis nearly balked at the suggestion—and she had balked along with Mai when Ryou suggested it to the both of them back when they were together. But Isis was disparaged, and Mai didn’t want to screw up what she had with Vivian, so they agreed to pay to sit down with an unbiased party, for several appointments, to give them insight into why things went so horribly wrong, and how to avoid such catastrophes in the future. It took a considerable hit to their egos, but Isis and Mai walked away from it with a keener understanding of their own selves and one another—not that they let the therapist know that.
A lot of baggage had been exposed in that office, and while it was a difficult process, they also acknowledged they were better people for it. From that day forward, they agreed they couldn’t be good lovers, but they could be good confidants. So they made a promise to one another: if one needed concise advice or a brutal opinion from the other, then they would answer that call and provide it.
“And it worked out well for us in the end,” Isis said, taking a sip of her own boba tea, as if she knew what Mai was thinking. “I am content with things as they are, and you have two people who love and adore you. So what has you so upset?”
“Because you’re supposed to say: ‘You have to be an adult; you can’t be with both; you can’t make this work; you’re being delusional; stop being so selfish, Mai.’”
“But they gave their consent to the relationship, correct?” Isis asked after another sip. “They get along with one another, right?”
“Yes, they do,” Mai sighed. “A little too well sometimes. But—”
“You’re scared,” Isis said. Mai bristled at the observation.
“You’re scared things are going to deteriorate, or feelings will get hurt, or they’ll leave you for each other, or you’ll do or say something that will put your relationship with both in jeopardy. So you’re telling yourself to feel guilt and fear for a terrible situation that hasn’t happened, and may never occur, because it’s difficult for you to accept genuine happiness, as you’re accustomed to causing your own misery through your actions.”
“Wow, you really are a cold bitch,” Mai muttered.
“You asked me to come here and give you my honest thoughts on the matter. Whether you like them or not is an outcome entirely on your end,” Isis said, raising her boba tea to make a point. “Take it from someone who once lived in terror of the sky falling on their own head. Stop worrying so much.”
Mai sneered at that.
“Psht! ‘The sky falling.’ You went around telling everyone on the blimp you foresaw the goddamn world coming to an end because of your psychotic brother—after I was rendered unconscious,” Mai hissed. Isis glared.
“And yet here we are,” Isis said, her tone noticeably restrained. They had argued enough about the topic of Marik’s mental state and Isis’ own choices in the past, among other things, and agreed to disagree about them when all was said and done. “Fate is not predetermined or set in stone. We all have the choice and the freedom to shape our futures. So perhaps you should envision yours in a positive light as opposed to something insidious.”
Mai bit the straw of her drink. It was an optimistic answer from the one person she depended on not to be optimistic about much of anything.
“Do as you will, but my opinion is: you’re overthinking the relationship. Just enjoy it,” Isis said. Mai couldn’t see it, but she knew damn well Isis was rolling her eyes under her own sunglasses. As if she knew it all and was above it all.
But she was also the only person who had nothing to prove, no reserved niceties or any inclination to appeal to her, which meant Mai could always rely on Isis be wholly honest, even when the truth hurt.
Especially when the truth hurt.
“You can choose to take my advice, or ignore it. It doesn’t affect me either way. Anyhow, I’ll be going soon,” Isis said, taking out her cellphone and checking her text messages. “My partner is due to pick me up for our date.”
“Partner?” Mai asked with a squint. Isis read everything the tone entailed.
“I’m aromantic, not asexual,” Isis clarified, putting her phone away in her clutch, “and regardless of your crude misconceptions, my own relationships are none of your business.”
As if on cue, a bright, sparkling lime green Lamborghini convertible pulled up on the walkway with a drift and a screech, leaving tire marks on the concrete while the ground trembled with Indian rap music blaring though the speakers.
“My ride,” Isis said primly.
Mai took a good look at the glitzy, expensive sports car, greatly unamused with a hint of disgust. After considering Isis’ relationships with Kaiba and Pegasus, she wondered if another reason things didn’t work out between them was because Mai wasn’t pulling in a minimum of seven-to-eight figures. Not that she was jealous. Isis was a great deal of many things, but easy to please had never been one of them. The only thing more impeccable than the woman’s indomitable posture was her standards. Frankly, Mai felt sorry for the poor bastard sitting in the driver’s seat.
Except it wasn’t a bastard, when Mai took a closer look. The driver was a woman with a complexion quite similar to Isis, wearing a pair of sunglasses with a sports lens style, with brunette hair billowing out from the rim of a bright yellow beanie while she wore a magenta crop top, along with several beaded necklaces and bracelets. Mai was overcome with a weird sense of déja vu. She could have sworn she had seen that woman before. Except that couldn’t be, because Mai didn’t know anyone who owned an obnoxiously bright green Lamborghini. She had never met that woman before in her life, but then why did she feel like she had seen her somewhere?
“Hey girl,” the mystery woman crooned. “Got everything wrapped up here?”
“Oh yes,” Isis said as she slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled her seat belt. “We’ve been done for a while.”
Mai scrunched her lips at the subtext.
“Good,” the woman said as she reached for the clutch in the center console. “Then let’s get started.”
Wait a minute.
Mai knew that voice.
“Holy shit—” Mai pinched the band of her sunglasses and lowered them down her face, her iced coffee thumping against her thigh as her hand barely held on in disbelief. She had heard that voice, seen that face, in shampoo commercials, perfume ads, billboards, movie promos, talent show panels, tabloid covers, reality shows, and her Ashtanga yoga DVD set Vivian had “misplaced” when they moved into their new condo last year.
“Is that Aileen Rao?!”
The driver smiled with a barely amused “hmph” without really acknowledging Mai, keeping her head forward while Isis smirked at her over the straw of her boba tea.
“Bye.”
At least, that’s what Mai thought Isis said. It was hard to hear over the heavy bass of the Indian rap music and the deafening squeal of tires when the obnoxiously bright, sparkling, lime green luxury sports car peeled away and disappeared from sight.
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
“‘Just enjoy it. Stop worrying so much,’” Mai muttered bitterly,pulling into a parking spot at her complex in her ultramarine blue Nissan 350Z convertible. “Yeah, easy for you to say. Real easy to think life is all sunshine and rainbows when you have a rich supermodel girlfriend who takes you out for joyrides in her stupid green Lambo!”
Mai yanked on the parking brake, ripped the key out of the ignition, fumbled with the button of her seat belt, stomped out, and slammed the car door. For no good reason whatsoever, Mai’s basic motor functions failed her and she dropped her keys on the pavement. She reached down to pick them up, succeeded, and there was yet another misfire in her central nervous system that caused her to drop her keys again.
“GODDAMMIT!” Mai swore. With a growl, she swiped at her keys and clenched them in a death grip, glaring at them in her palm.
“Stay there, you little bitch,” Mai commanded. She suddenly felt eyes on her and looked up to see a man, a woman, and their six-year-old daughter staring from the balcony of their condo. Immediately, Mai flushed and reacted with the first thing that came to mind.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!”
Husband, wife, and child quickly retreated back into the safety of their home while Mai’s vision picked up the motion of several curtains moving in the windows of various condos. Mai cringed at the realization.
“Damn it,” she sighed. She didn’t know so much about the anonymous onlookers, but the Shibuya family didn’t deserve that. Mai made a mental note to buy a gift basket later on that week, re-introduce herself, apologize for swearing at them, and explain that she was not a bitter, crazy, washed up has-been who yelled at her keys in the parking lot at night, and that she was just having a bad day because her cold-hearted ex was living her best life while Mai was locked in an existential conundrum.
Except she wouldn’t tell them that last part.
Yes, poor me. I’m in a functional relationship with two people while there are others out there who can’t even find one. Boo hoo. No one in the history of the world has suffered such as I.
Mai thumped her keys against the side of her head at the thought. She was in a good situation and she should have been enjoying it, but the only real obstacle in the way of her own happiness was herself. Isis had been spot on.
Mai winced and clashed her keys into the side of her head again. The pain of acknowledging her ex was right was more agonizing.
Though noticing the “OUT OF ORDER” sign scrawled in permanent marker and taped on the elevator of her building was closing in on second place.
“Come on,” Mai moaned. “Why do we even pay maintenance fees?”
“I know, right?” came a voice from behind her. Mai looked over her shoulder, then down, and noticed an elderly woman with stark white hair in a wheelchair, looking far more annoyed than Mai, who now felt immensely awkward and unjustified in her grievance.
“I already called the main office. They knew it was broken because someone reported it at five-thirty and assured me it was on the schedule to be fixed tomorrow afternoon. I reminded them there’s an Owners with Disabilities Clause in the contract, along with a national Disabilities Act, and how to contact my lawyer. Then they said they would send the maintenance team right over,” said the old woman, pulling up the sleeve of her periwinkle sweater and looking at her watch. “Forty five minutes ago.”
“Uhm, wow,” Mai said lamely. “That’s really inconvenient, isn’t it?”
Holy shit, shut up, Mai told herself. You’re not making the situation any better.
“You’re the woman who lives on the top floor with that Chinese girl and the blonde lad, aren’t you?”
Mai’s posture stiffened at the observation. She prepared herself to endure a long, judgmental rant about traditional relationships, or how things were “back in the day,” and how she was a dirty trollop, and needed to turn her life over to a benevolent God who demanded utmost, unwavering loyalty and servitude in His name or else He would make her suffer in eternal hellfire for her sins while they were both stuck waiting for the maintenance team to come by and fix the elevator. Just her luck.
“Looks like you’ve got a lot of walking to do, then,” the old woman said, gesturing to the door of the stairwell that was located several feet away from the elevators. “That’s a long way up.”
Mai faltered when she realized she could take the stairs. Because of course there were stairs. They had always been there.
You dumb bitch, Mai chastised herself.
“You have fun with that,” the old woman said with a wry smile before taking out her cellphone. “I’ll be here.”
“Uh, yes,” Mai uttered. “Right. Good night.”
The old woman acknowledged her departure with a curt nod and started tapping on the keypad of her cellphone while Mai walked over to the entrance (and exit) to the stairwell, each step feeling clumsy and awkward, as though she were a deer learning to walk for the first time.
Get a hold of yourself.
It was a good deal of ground to cover in a set of flip flops, though it did give Mai some time to think.
After the first six floors, Mai couldn’t believe Joey and Vivian went up and down these stairs, multiple times each day, in preparation for their race, and took it regularly just to fit in an extra bit of exercise to their already active routines. Mai had thought her usual workout of yoga and body weights every other day had been enough, but once she started to huff after the tenth floor, she wondered if she should have been joining her lovers during their morning bouts of cardio.
Aside from the other cardio workouts, Mai thought lewdly.
She wiped at her brow as she passed the fourteenth floor. Great, now she was thinking like Joey. Or was she thinking like Vivian? Or had Joey influenced Vivian, who then influenced Mai? Or was Vivian really the lewdest one out of the three of them and she just didn’t notice until now?
You like it when things run hot, she heard Isis say, which killed her libido in an instant. Or perhaps seeing the sign for the seventeenth floor and realizing she was barely half-way there dulled the urge.
Mai did know what she liked, and what she liked was waiting for her at the top of the stairs—had been there for her the past year.
That was the problem.
“It’s difficult for you to accept genuine happiness, as you’re accustomed to causing your own misery through your actions.”
“Shut up, Isis,” Mai grunted.
Though Isis had been right. Mai agreed with her; it was what Mai knew all along. But hearing it out loud did nothing to settle her nerves. There was still that nagging feeling at the back of her head, telling her she couldn’t enjoy it, that it just wasn’t possible to have her cake and eat it too. Because that was never how her life worked. Whenever there was something good, something that made her feel as though she was on top of the world, there was inevitably something that would come along to knock her down to keep her pride in check. Mai couldn’t accept she had something perfect in her life, because life hadn’t been perfect for her since the beginning. Why would life choose to throw her a bone now? Why should she relax and be happy and believe everything would work out for the best when so many things had blown up in her face so many times before?
Perhaps that was why Mai had stuck with Isis for as long as she did. Miserable as the experience was, Mai could believe every negative thing that had happened between them was a realistic expectation, par for the course and fit in nicely with the shit show she’d been living since she was orphaned at the age of nine.
But was that fair to Joey and Vivian? For her to be suspicious or doubtful of their partnership when she knew in her heart of hearts that their feelings were true? They loved her equally, passionately, with everything they had. They loved her so much that they didn’t once force her to make a choice between them, but allowed her to have them both in mind, body, and soul—and they actually got along. It was the most fulfilling relationship Mai ever had. It was everything she could have asked for and more. It was the perfect life.
But Mai didn’t believe in perfection. There was always fine print to every contract. There was always some sort of catch. There was always a flaw, a blemish, some thing, whether it was through Mai’s own doing or life in general reminding itself that it was time to piss all over her parade. Mai just didn’t know what that particular thing was going to be, and she lived in dread knowing something somewhere was going to snap and unravel the beautiful corner of the world she had woven for herself.
“You’re overthinking the relationship. Just enjoy it.”
“Whatever, Isis,” Mai panted. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees, her right eye closed to avoid getting a drop of sweat trapped underneath as she read the sign posted above the door.
F50
“Finally,” Mai sighed. Next time they went shopping for a new place, it wasn’t going to be in a building the size of a goddamned skyscraper.
- 0 – 0 – 0 -
“Whoa, Mai!” Joey exclaimed when he opened the door. “I thought you drove to the beach? Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”
“Maybe she’s training to do the next race with us,” Vivian said as she peeked out from behind him, munching on an apple before her jaw went slack.
“Aiya!” Vivian screamed. “You look like a drowned cat!”
Mai felt like a drowned cat. She could feel her hair had lost all of its volume, sticking to her forehead and her back. Her bikini top had become a second skin, and her shorts had been so utterly soaked with sweat that it looked like she had an unfortunate accident. She didn’t even want to think about the state of her makeup. She took the purple-tinted sunglasses off the top of her head and frowned when she saw fogging on the lenses.
“I’m taking a cold shower,” Mai said as she dropped her keys and her sunglasses in the bowl next to the door.
“Hold on!” Joey said excitedly. “Before you do that, we have a surprise for you.”
“A hot tub upgrade to the bath?” Mai droned. She may have wanted a cold shower, but a full body soak afterwards sounded like a great idea too.
“Uh, okay, maybe not that expensive,” Joey said, “but it’s still pretty good.”
“You got me something expensive?” Mai uttered with a tinge of surprise and concern. Joey’s business may have been doing well, but he was still a personal trainer, and she knew better than anyone that he was strict with his budget.
“Kinda, yeah. But Viv and I thought you’d really like it!”
“You went shopping with him?” Mai groaned, turning her attention to Vivian. Well, that mystery was solved. No wonder he probably went outside his budget.
“Oh please, stop with that look. We hardly broke the bank,” Vivian said as she waved her apple up and down. “Sit down and open your present, cat lady. Then you can take your shower.”
“I feel disgusting,” Mai groaned as they each held her hands and guided her to the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch. She looked down and beheld a small, rectangular black box with a parchment tag attached, her name emblazoned in gold foil lettering.
For Mai Valentine <3
“Aw, you guys got me a cardboard box,” Mai said. “I love it. Can I shower now?”
“Here, open it,” Joey said. Mai saw a horizontal line, noticing that it was in two parts, and it was placed in her damp hands. She wiped her right hand against her shorts in an attempt to dry it, made her hand even wetter by doing so, and gingerly grasped the edges of the lid to avoid soaking whatever it contained.
Mai passed the lid over to Vivian, who took it and tossed it onto the couch, while she dug through the neon pink tissue paper inside and pulled out a purple cloth wrapped around something that felt slim and metallic.
“The plot thickens,” Vivian said.
“Doesn’t feel like jewelry,” Mai observed.
“You can still wear it, though,” Joey said.
Mai placed the bottom half of the black box on the coffee table and used her left hand to hold the cloth as she fished her index finger and thumb into the opening on the side. She felt something slender and somewhat sturdy, and tugged it out.
She unfolded the item and realized it was a new pair of sunglasses. The frame was a sleek stainless steel, and the lenses were magenta, one of her favorite colors.
The overall presentation, however…
“You got me heart-shaped sunglasses,” Mai said, half surprised and half not surprised.
“Heart-shaped sunglasses with polarized lenses,” Vivian specified.
“When we saw these at the mall, we knew they had your name on them!” Joey declared proudly.
“Mai Valentine. Valentine. Hearts. Clever,” Mai said with a tight smile, not entirely sure how to react. She appreciated the thought, but…
“So, what do you think?” Joey urged.
“You like them?” Vivian asked, matching Joey’s eagerness for her reply.
Mai closed her eyes, held her head low, and cocked her lips to the side in an imperceptible smile.
She was sore, sweaty, exhausted, and holding what was probably the ugliest pair of (likely overpriced) sunglasses on the face of the planet. Because when they saw hearts, they thought of her. Mai Valentine; my Valentine; their Valentine. It was so gaudy, so corny, so saccharine that it almost brought tears to her eyes.
This is it, Mai thought.
This was the thing. The flaw. The blemish to an otherwise picture perfect life. For all their passion, their devotion, their determination and loyalty, Vivian and Joey were and would always be colossal dorks.
And she knew, in that moment, she was going live with these two dorks for the rest of her life.
“I love them,” Mai said, donning the glasses with a smirk and staring at her lovers through literal rose-tinted lenses.
“They’re perfect.”
END