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外面又开始下雨。布里斯班的雨水本就不算少，这季节更是容易一入夜就下雨。人们陆陆续续地端起酒杯，走向室内或是晴雨棚下的桌椅。
口袋里的手机震了两下，我心不在焉地伸手把它拿出来，左手上的酒杯还端得稳稳的。亮起的屏幕上跳出Brett的消息：“我今晚不跟你回去了，有人约我。”
我抬起头，消息的主人已经套上了他的羽绒外套，还在和身边几人寒暄着。他似乎是注意到我的视线，和那边打了个招呼便快步向我走来。
“刚还准备说如果你不准备接着喝了就先回去不用等我来着。”
他笑了笑：“嗯，确实不能再喝了，不然再按他们那样你一杯我一杯地灌，到时候真得被扛走了。”
“那好，玩得开心，注意安全，到家了跟我发条消息说一声。……不回家的话也说一声。”我没费神问他对方是谁——我早就注意到出口处那个高大健壮的白人男性身影，以及他一直追随着Brett直到他走向我身边，现在仍时不时从手机上挪开来看我两眼的目光。
“嗯，应该是不会回家了。那我和Bertie先走了。”他再次展颜一笑，然后转身向出口走去，一路上还在和擦肩而过的人群打着招呼。我目送着他的背影找上Bertie的，然后双双消失在门口。
我收回视线，将杯中微温的玛格丽特一饮而尽。
对面的Jessie似乎也是刚刚放下酒杯。我眼角的余光瞥到她空掉的杯中还残留着一些冰块，似乎还挂着几滴褐色的酒液。她和我一样，今晚几乎没怎么主动找人聊天，但在同桌的人、或是三三两两前来寒暄的人们抛出话头时，也会得体地应上几句，直到搭话的人转去下一桌。
来搭话的人还真不少。毕竟是同学聚会，即使没什么新鲜事可讲也总能叙叙旧。更何况我们中还有不少人都成为了某种世俗意义上的“红人”，不缺话题度的的那种。——甚至包括我们自己，我自嘲地想着，不过大概因为我们平常就很接地气，也没什么人设，倒也没人拿捏着那种夸张的语气来找上Brett或我。
这时她今晚第一次主动开口和我聊天：“他有约了？我之前还以为你们会是那种，眼睛里早就装不下别人了的关系。至少我以为他会是。”
倒也是容易被这么认为，毕竟我们之前在新加坡同居了那么久，回了布里斯班他也是天天往我家兼工作室跑还时常留宿，甚至罔顾封城禁令也要过来。“但其实不是的，我俩都还挺开放的吧，也早就达成共识了。”毕竟人生苦短，自由职业油管主平时又是干什么都总会一天十几二十个小时地在对方面前晃来晃去，总得给彼此留些喘息的空间、留点制造意外的机会。大家都知道该怎么保护自己、同时不给别人添麻烦，这就够了。“毕竟都是成年人了嘛。有时候我俩嫌麻烦什么的，或者想找点乐子啊，互相打个招呼就去了。”
她点点头，没立刻接话，只是挥了挥手叫来酒保。“一杯白俄罗斯。你要再点点儿什么吗？”后半句是问我的，我笑了笑加了杯野格汤力。酒保点好单提交给吧台，又走向另一桌正在招手呼唤着要再来一杯的人群。
之前在我们这一桌的另一个人刚刚道了声“失陪”然后离开，大概是不想参与我和她之间近乎哑谜的对话，当然也可能只是去趟洗手间。我漫无目的地想着，一回头正好撞上她的视线，大概猜到对方在想着同样的事情，我们相视一笑。
另一个酒保端着我们的白俄罗斯和野格汤力过来放在高脚桌上。我端起酒杯喝了一口，感受着药草味儿混合着苏打水的气泡在舌尖炸开。我想起来我似乎没怎么喝过白俄罗斯，只依稀记得配料里似乎有奶油。
或许是酒精作祟，或许是觉得只有我们两个锯嘴葫芦的气氛过于沉闷，她正好也开口：“我能不能尝尝你的野格？之前一直听说野格很苦，都没试过。”
于是我们交换了手中的酒杯。我喝了一口她的白俄罗斯，感叹着这味道似乎还真有点像摩卡咖啡或者奶茶，同时看着她先面不改色地啜了一口我的野格汤力，疑惑地皱了皱眉，然后又灌了一大口，立刻被辣出了眼泪。我放下酒杯，腾出手来给她拍拍背顺了顺气。“还挺呛的，”她缓过劲儿来之后说，“倒是没我想象中的苦。”
“谁叫你灌那么大一口，”我接过她递过来的杯子，就手呷了一口。“我以前泡吧喜欢喝野格炸弹，那个里面有红牛没苏打水，所以没这么呛。但现在年纪上来了，而且今晚也不算是泡吧什么的，就点了这个。”我们都不再是二十出头的小伙子小姑娘了，去年Brett大病一场之后我俩更是开始格外注重养生。来参加聚会喝喝酒也不过是为了老友闲聊外加放松，自然不会再像年轻时那样干些燃烧自己的事儿。
我毕业也七年了，Brett是八年。我们已经度过的人生的四分之一。可以预计到的人生的将近十分之一。足够我们蜕变蜕变再蜕变。或许她也一样。我在校的时候几乎对Jessie这个人没什么印象，当然很大一部分原因是她那时话也不多，我们社交圈也没什么交集。但那时我也还不能够像现在的我，像今天这样——几个眼神便知道彼此是同类，知道有些东西无需言传，甚至知道运气好的话或许今晚还能春宵一度，没有人会在意。
“那你也还挺长情的，一直喜欢喝野格。”
那是当然，不是什么酒都有这么丰富的药草香气、原料之间还有着能和奶茶比肩的融合程度的。“这么一说好像确实。不过白俄罗斯也还挺好喝的。甚至有点像奶茶。”
但我平常喝奶茶喝得也够多的了。
我们又陷入了沉默，一边各自喝着自己的那杯酒，一边凝视着觥筹交错间的人群。野格毕竟呛人，她将杯中的酒液一饮而尽时我的杯子里还剩下大半。于是她凑上前来，就着我的手又灌了一口，倒是没像之前那样被呛得厉害。我俩你一口我一口地分完了那杯野格汤力，一边注视着还推杯换盏着的人群，时不时闲聊些不相干的话题，或是和上来搭话的人寒暄几句。夜很深了，场子慢慢静了下来。她的脸上染了一层薄红，我也感觉到四肢百骸间奔走的一阵阵暖流。
“走吗？”她终于问。我点点头：“去你那儿还是外面？”毕竟我们这种人大概都不会在一夜情对象的完全被当作工作室的家里和他做爱，尤其是他的男友同时还是他的同事，不出外勤的话每天大半的时间都待在这里。“我家吧，”她说，“很近，走过去十来分钟吧，正好吹吹风散散步。”
于是我看着她去拿来外套穿好，然后一起离开。雨不知什么时候已经停了，只是柏油路面上还泛着一层湿意。薄薄的雾气正在冬夜冰冷的空气间弥漫，似乎有露珠正向我裸露的皮肤上攀附。
我紧了紧裹在身上的大衣，顺手摸出手机，点开和Brett的对话框。消息除了之前那两条，还多了一条他和Bertie已经到酒店了的更新。“我今晚也有约了。”我在聊天框里输入道，想了想，又加了两句：“要不明天休息一天吧？最近也连着忙了有一阵子了。”
我知道他不会很快回复，或许整晚都不会回复。于是我关掉手机屏幕放回口袋，然后和她并肩走进沉沉夜幕。
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It started to rain again. It always rained in Brisbane, especially deep at night in the middle of winter. Crowds began transferring indoors or to seating under the awnings, carrying their glasses in hand.
The phone in my pocket vibrated twice. I absent-mindedly took it out, still holding the glass in my left hand firmly. Brett’s messages lit the screen: "won't be going home with you tonight. got invited."
I looked up to find that he had already put on his puffer jacket, and was still chatting with the few people around him. He seemed to have noticed my gaze, and a few words in, he was walking towards me quickly.
"I was just gonna let you go first if you don't plan to drink any more. You don't have to wait for me, hey."
There was a little smile on his face. "Yeah, I really can't drink anymore, or you will have to literally carry me back home. "
"No worries, man. Take care and have fun, and text me when you get back home.... Actually text me too if you wouldn’t be home tonight." I didn't even bother to ask him who the other person was - I had already noticed the tall and sturdy white male figure near the exit, whose eyes had been following Brett from the previous group of people to my side, and who was constantly looking at me on and off from his phone.
"Probably won’t be going home tonight. Gonna go with Bertie now." He smiled again, then turned and walked towards the exit, still greeting the crowds he was passing by along the way. I watched him approach Bertie from behind, and then both disappeared at the exit.
I retracted my eyes and finished my drink, only to find that the Marguerite was not that chilled anymore.
The girl on the other side of the table, Jessie, seemed to have just drained her glass as well. From the corner of my eye, I could see the ice cubes remaining in her glass, and a few drops of brown liquor still hanging from them. Just like me, she barely moved around or took the initiative to chat with people tonight, but whenever someone came over to greet us, she would always respond politely until the person turned to the next target.
There were quite a few people who came to talk to each other - after all, this was a classmates’ reunion, even if there was nothing new to talk about, we could always reminisce about the good old times. Not to mention that many of us have become "popular" in a secular sense. Even including ourselves, I thought to myself kind of ironically, but Brett and I never really made a fuss about it, and so neither did anyone else.
I was just about to lose myself in my thoughts when she started to talk to me for the first time tonight. "He has a date? I thought you guys would be in the kind of relationship where no one else would enter the picture. At least, I thought he would be that kind of person."
Not that I wasn’t aware it was easy for anyone to mistake us as such. We had been living together in Singapore for years, and after returning to Brisbane, he still regularly came to my home-studio almost every single day, even ignoring the city lockdown. Let alone all those nights he just ended up staying. "Actually nah, we are both quite open about this— we reached this consensus a long time ago." After all, life was short. Being freelance Youtubers meant we were always dangled in front of each other for almost the whole day, every day, and for that reason, we would have to give each other some space for ourselves, and some opportunities to fulfill our own plans. We were fully functional adults, who were able to take care of ourselves, and that's enough. "Sometimes if we find it bothersome, or if we wanna have some fun, we just inform each other and do as we wish."
She nodded, but didn't respond right away, instead she waved to call the bartender over. "A glass of white Russian.” She turned towards me. “Would you like to order something else?" So I added a glass of Jäger Tonic. The bartender submitted the order to the bar, then walked away to another crowd beckoning for a new round of drinks.
The other person at our table just said "excuse me" and left, probably because he didn't want to participate in the almost cryptic conversation between her and I— or he might just be going to the bathroom, I thought aimlessly. When I turned my head around, our eyes met, and we both saw from each other’s face that we were probably thinking the same thoughts, which resulted in us smiling at each other, once again.
Another bartender brought our drinks over and put them on the high table. I picked up my glass and took a sip, tasting the herb scents with soda bubbles exploding on the tip of my tongue. When I thought of it, I didn’t seem to have ever had white Russian before, or I couldn’t remember. I could only vaguely recall that there seemed to be cream in the ingredients.
Maybe it was alcohol, or maybe it was because the atmosphere between us was becoming dull, she just said at the same time as I had the thought, "Can I taste your Jäger Tonic? I've heard that Jäger is bitter but I've never tried it before. "
So we exchanged our glasses. I took a sip of her white Russian - it seemed to taste a little bit like mocha coffee, or maybe milk tea. At the same time, she took a sip of mine without a stir, frowned suspiciously, and took another gulp, immediately bursting into tears. I put down the glass in my hand to pat her back gently, trying to sooth her out. "It's kind of strong," she said after regathering herself, "not as bitter as I imagined tho."
"You chose to take such a big gulp after all," I took the glass she handed over and took another sip. "Jäger Bomb was once my fav actually, back when I was young and when we went clubbing. There was Red Bull in it, instead of soda, so it didn’t choke as much. But now that I’m getting older, and we’re not clubbing tonight, there’s no need to over-exert myself, so I ordered Jäger Tonic instead." We are no longer in our early twenties, and after Brett suffered his serious illness last year, we began to pay even more attention to our health. This party was just for old friends to chat and relax, after all.
I had already graduated for seven years, and eight years for Brett. A quarter of our life for now. Nearly one-tenth of lifespan we could possibly live. Enough for us to transmute ourselves again and again. It was true for her too, I guess - I almost didn't have any impression of Jessie when we were back at the conservatory. Of course, a large part of the reason was that she didn't talk much back in the days, either. And our social circles didn't have much overlap. But then I was not able to see people through their masks back then, like I was able to today - just a few looks, and I would know that she was one of my kind, and that some things we didn’t really need to put into words to let each other know. I would even know that if luck was on our side, maybe it could be a nice night for us tonight, and neither of us would be bothered by it.
"Then you are pretty consistent, hey, always liking these Jäger-based drinks."
But of course. Not all liquor had such a rich herbal aroma, and a degree of fusion among the ingredients that could even match that of the bubble tea. "Yeah. But white Russian is also very good I guess. It even tastes like milk tea."
But I have had enough milk tea, like, regularly.
We fell into silence again, drinking from our own glasses, staring at the intertwining crowds. When she drained her glass, there was still more than half in my glass left - Jäger Tonic overwhelmed people after all. So she leaned forward and took another gulp from the glass in my hand, without getting choked up as much as the time before. Sip by sip we finished the remaining drink together, at the edge of the crowd, chatting about irrelevant topics from time to time, or chatting with the people who came up to talk to us. It was late at night now, and the place was slowly becoming quieter and quieter. Her face was stained with a thin layer of pinkness, and I also felt a warm current running through my body.
"Wanna go now?" she finally asked.
I nodded. "Do you wanna go to your place or maybe some hotel?" After all, introverts like us probably wouldn't have a one night stand in someone’s home-studio, especially if the boyfriend of that person was also his business partner, staying there most of the time every day when they didn’t need to work outside. "My place, maybe?" She responded, "It's just ten minutes’ walk, you know, maybe we could walk there and just enjoy the night wind a bit more."
So I watched her as she went to get her coat and put it on, and then we left together. The rain had already stopped at some point, though the ground was still wet. A thin mist was filling the cold winter air, and it felt as if dewdrops were beginning to cling to my bare skin.
I wrapped the coat more tightly around myself, took out my phone, and opened the chat with Brett. In addition to the previous messages, there was also an update that he and Bertie have arrived at the hotel. "I’ve got a date too." I texted, hesitated a few seconds, and added: "Maybe we could take a day off tomorrow? Been working hard for a while now."
I knew he wouldn’t reply soon, or probably he wouldn't all night. So I locked the phone, put it back into my pocket, and walked straight into the deep night with her by my side.