Chapter Text
The university was abuzz with the news of the party.
It had been announced, though in not so many words, just a day prior on a private online post, but had since broken into university news. Most suspected it was the fanclubs that had arranged the leak, as it was on good authority they had done so in the past for other campus celebrities, but one couldn’t be certain now, not when the event had grown to immeasurable lengths in just a single night. There hadn’t been this much talk in quite some time, and just as the students longed for a night away so did they long for gossip and excitement. It seemed so rare, now, the days so cloudy and humid, and the calendar grimly empty. At last, they tasted hope on their tongues and it was sweet, like the mingling of sweat and perfume. And it was all thanks to Sky.
Sky, of the Engineering faculty, former Moon and current heartthrob/bachelor of the university, would celebrate his twenty-second birthday in three days' time.
Rumors floated from each faculty. The loudest faculty, Sky’s faculty and thereby the most reliable faculty, under good faith, believed the city would send reporters and television staff to the event. The medical students claimed musical groups from overseas would perform live. Those in Education saw Sky and his best friend, Nuea, engaged in a physical fight, for Nuea had stolen his girlfriend – or so they said. Each rumor was more asinine than the last, until the gossip reached the Comm Arts faculty where it quickly dissipated, for the Comm Arts students stood in the lowest standing of the school, and even the most lurid of rumors would hardly be entertained there.
Sky’s party was never planned to be a small affair. The open-air and endless party room booked in his stead was a true testament to that fact, but it was invite-only. How one received an invitation was knowledge far beyond the scope of those uninvited, though that fact didn’t stop students from trying. All across St. Stephens University, students bickered and bragged, claimed connections to Sky’s cousin or past lover, and jeered when those lower in standing asked for an extension. Sky’s party would be just as elite and unattainable as he, brighter than the sun that dripped from his fingertips, though not as desirable as his glaringly good looks.
Sky was dear to St. Stephens just as a prince was dear to his kingdom; his light eyes twinkled in mischief and his lips were nearly always turned to a knowing smirk, he excelled in his studies though found time to charm the crowds at his tournaments, and he delighted in deviltry in one of the few ways a young man could. His charms laid in his roguish good looks, his clear, pale skin, his narrow eyes, and bitten lips, perhaps in his pierced ears, silver hoops or pendant chain, and the admittedly groundless talk of a tattoo on his shoulder, or simply his aura, his confidence, the ability to stand in the middle of a busy room and invite the longing gazes of those around you –
Or, at least, that’s what Jao had heard. He’d only caught a glimpse of Sky once, nearly a year ago at a basketball game.
But yet he knew: if Sky was a prince, then surely Jao was a mere commoner.
In the lowest faculty of the university, in the smallest and least-regarded major, and in the lamest campus apartments, did he find himself, though to no such dismay or trouble. Jao may never win a title of his own or secure an invitation to a party , but he certainly was happy and rarely wanted for anything more.
Jao leaned forward in his seat, elbows on the desk in front of him, and hummed softly to himself, a tune with no name, as he scrolled idly through his phone. His round, puppy eyes shifted once to glance at the whiteboard before looking down to his phone screen, where his favorite online stationery store awaited; though his parents thought him too old for an allowance, save for his tuition and boarding costs, he wondered if perhaps they would loan him enough money to buy the gummy bear pen set, if he merely omitted the style of decor. He smiled and shook his head – though tempting, he couldn’t ask his parents for that.
“Jao!” a voice called a moment too late. Jao barely got a firm grip on his phone before Toh, his best friend of three years, launched himself into the desk beside him and nearly sent the both of them toppling to the floor. Jao let out a squeak of surprise and grabbed the edge of Toh’s desk, trying to right him as Toh jittered anxiously in his seat. “Jao!”
Jao grimaced and covered his ears, sinking into his seat. “Toh,” he whined. “I’m right next to you, don’t shout.”
Toh paid him no mind. “I have the most wonderful news,” he said, thrusting his phone in Jao’s face, grinning like a cat through his simpers of giggles. Jao eyed him but took the offered phone.
Alight the screen was an email, addressed to a certain Thima in perfect formality, and as Jao read through the offer, Toh recited every last word completely. “At the suggestion and gratitude of St. Stephen’s Men’s Basketball League, we’d like to offer you a freelance photographer position for an esteemed social event, held on the first of March… details to continue in attached...”
Jao passed the phone back and clapped his hands with a giddy smile. “Toh, congratulations! Your first paid job!”
Toh clapped along, his wide glasses slipping further down the bridge of his nose at every slight movement, before he abruptly stilled and frowned. “I’ll get paid?”
“Mm,” Jao said, pointing to the text on Toh’s screen. “It says so here! How did you miss that?”
Toh smiled sheepishly and rubbed a nervous hand on the back of his neck. “Well, the basketball team suggested me , and you know, p’Nuea is on the basketball team…”
“Toh! But you will take the job, right?”
“Of course, Jao!” Toh said, each word saccharine. Jao, not for the first time, and certainly not the last time, eyed him with a fond smile. “I can be close to p’Nuea, closer than ever before! Maybe I could meet him, or dance with him, or even just smell his cologne…”
Jao wrinkled his nose and looked away, unable to indulge Toh further; Toh, his dear friend, needn’t permission to regale in his own fantasies, so as Jao picked up his near-hollow pen, scribbling uselessly in his notebook to coerce ink to the tip, Toh was content to daydream.
A thought occurred to Jao and he turned to his friend once more. “What event is this? If the basketball team is going, it must be an award ceremony!”
Toh shook his head, both as an answer to Jao’s question and to wake himself from his reverie. “No, I don’t think so. Hold on, let me check.” He paused to tap on his phone and Jao saw, through the mirror of Toh’s glasses, that he’d opened the email’s attachment. Toh’s eyes widened. “Oh! Jao! It’s for p’Sky’s birthday party!”
Jao nodded slowly. “Oh, p’Sky’s party…”
Jao had heard the rumors the same as any other student, but hadn’t paid them much mind at all; Som and Daisy, his two other best friends, were positively enchanted and rarely stopped to breathe when they fell into theories and discussions of the party, which they were so often wont to do. Jao had resorted to sneaking away just to escape the maddening circles of gossip, but Som and Daisy always found him in the end. So, much to his own dissatisfaction, he was just as an expert of the party as his friends.
He jolted in his seat. He clutched Toh’s hand, catching his eye. “Toh, listen to me. You can’t drink too much, okay?” he said, squeezing Toh’s hands. “Actually, you can’t drink at all! Even if p’Nuea buys you a drink, you shouldn’t drink! You know how you get.”
Toh offered him another sheepish smile but he didn’t disagree. Memories of nights spent laboring under Toh’s drunken weight haunted the both of them. “If p’Nuea buys me a drink, I can’t say no!”
Toh was silent for a moment, until he, like Jao just moments ago, startled with wide eyes. His head dropped to his hands and he groaned, a pitched, whiny sound that expressed no level of real urgency, only resignation. “Jao, I can’t do this. I’m in so much trouble…”
“Why? What’s wrong?"
Toh sniffled. “I only want to take pictures of p”Nuea…”
Jao couldn’t help the incredulous giggle that bubbled from his throat. Poor Toh was lost in his own distress, his eyes hazy as he stared at, likely, the tumultuous scenarios that awaited him at the party. Jao patted Toh’s back.
Quite abruptly, two hands slammed down on either of their desks, snapping Toh from his daze. Above them stood Daisy and Som, identical in pose, each one with a hand on the desks and a hand on their hip. Som flicked a strand of auburn hair from her face and straightened, crossing her arms across her chest and peering down at Toh with a glint in her eye. Daisy perched herself on the edge of Jao’s desk and curled a devilish arm across Jao’s shoulders, leaning in tight. “I have just the idea, Som,” Daisy said, voice low.
Som hummed her agreement. “I have the same idea, Daisy.”
Jao glanced between them, apprehension filling him like a balloon as red as his ears.
“Jao will go with Toh!” the two said in unison, linking arms with two, twin grins.
Jao blanched and waved his hands in front of him, hoping to dismiss the idea by mere franticness alone. “Daisy, Som, no, you know I can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head and laughing nervously. “This is Toh’s job, not mine.”
He looked to Toh, pleading with low, puppy eyes. Toh, out of the three of his closest friends, likely understood him the best; they’d lived next door to each other since their first year at university and shared together both their darkest and brightest moments. Toh was a kindred spirit, alike to Jao in all of his kind qualities and none of his poorest. Where Jao was hesitant and home to nervous, fluttering butterflies, Toh was brave, emboldened by his own desires. Jao had never known that; he’d never even known a wish so striking it strayed him from his unease.
Toh brightens. “That’s a great idea!” he said, and Jao knew he was doomed. “Jao, please, come with me. I can take pictures of Nuea and you can take pictures of everything else!”
Daisy and Som shifted, their arms dropping from their hold on each other to hang limply at their sides. Daisy’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know about that…”
Som glanced to the side. “That’s not what we meant…”
Jao crossed his arms across his chest and turned up his nose. “No, I don’t want to,” he pouted. “I don’t like to drink and parties are weird and uncomfortable. It’s no place for a Jao.”
Som crooned and leaned down to rest her elbows on Jao’s desk. She led Jao’s gaze back to her with a gentle pull to his tie, and Jao, surprised by even the sound of birds in the morning, squeaked and stared at Som with wide eyes. “No,” he whined, long and petulant.
“Don’t you see?” Daisy said. “That’s why you’re the best person for the job. You won’t be distracted like Toh – you’ll actually take some good pictures!”
They paid no heed to Toh’s quiet, affronted, “ Hey! ”
Jao felt his resolve grow ever weaker, softened by imploring and honest eyes, a warm pat to his hand, a gentle pinch to his pink cheek. He sighed and sunk into his seat, far enough to hide his face in his notebook but not nearly enough to disappear entirely.
It was Toh who dealt the final card. “We can split the money, too. Please, Jao. I promise I will focus and work hard, like a real photographer!”
Jao’s lips thinned but he nodded, his anxiety still hidden behind the notebook. “You’re buying me bubble tea today.”
Toh leaned over and pulled Jao into a tight hug, and, unable to resist, Som and Daisy joined, their lips parted like hearts.
The warm, evening air was balmy against the little exposed skin of Jao’s neck. The sun had begun its easy descent home just moments ago and the world was bathed in a swath of gold; rays of rich, golden light dripped from the pleated arches of rooftops and stone fences to pool in the scorching streets. A breeze, and only just, tugged on the curls of Jao’s light hair and beckoned sweat to his brow, and when Jao moved to wipe his cheek, so did the wind follow him, and Jao tasted rain on the tip of his tongue.
He ought not to have come out tonight.
Jao would ascribe fortune to his name no more than he would ascribe modesty to Daisy. It would truly be his luck to catch himself in the midst of a storm, when he’d hoped only to have a quiet evening alone with his Nikon and the sunset. Tomorrow evening, he would work the birthday party with Toh, and alight as his nerves were at the prospect of drinking and strangers and too many people , his camera always restored him.
He bit his lip and sent a worried glance to the sky, though the dusky gray clouds above yielded no false pretense. The taste on his tongue seemed sweet. Perhaps just a few minutes more would be enough; perhaps the rain could wait for just a moment more.
He crouched down and adjusted the legs of his tripod, unable to find its center on the uneven and cracked cement of the parking lot. Jao had found, just weeks before, a striking angle for landscape photos in the back lot of the gymnasium; here, it was quiet, and the palm trees framed the sky like they’d been painted for that purpose.
A quiet rumble of thunder nearly toppled Jao over. He stood quickly, whining deep in his throat as his face scrunched up in worry. “Come on, come on,” he whimpered, fussing around with the settings on his camera.
He leaned forward to peek through the viewfinder. The steamy clouds hadn’t yet disrupted the scene, but the lighting wasn’t right; the sun glared and the trees shadowed. His free hand tapped nervously against the thick base of the camera.
Then, he felt it. A drop on his shoulder.
The raindrop seeped so easily into his white cardigan and through his shirt. He felt the water almost immediately on his kissed skin. Jao felt his breath leave him. “No…”
Raindrops rarely ever fell alone.
In the next moment, a deluge of warm, summer rain descended upon him. Jao didn’t think – he shrugged off his cardigan and tossed it over his camera, hoping again for just a moment of time that the storm hadn’t spared him yet. His fingers slipped against the wet plastic of the camera and the shutter clicked. Jao prayed he hadn’t broken the hapless thing.
But the rain stopped.
No, it was still raining – the clouds were murky and the sun was hidden in monotony. Rain cascaded like linear lines before him, though not above him. His shoulders quivered once and he reached out his hand to find that just a step forward would drench him again. Jao’s lips moved before his words could catch up and his head tilted to the side. Finally, he looked up.
It was a bright red umbrella.
Jao whipped around and a gasp fell to the earth below him. He thought he’d been alone, so close to dusk as he was, so far removed from campus as he stood, but there was another – a tall man, pale like the rain with lips a hue of peach, who wore a cut, black tracksuit and dual hoops on either ear. He smirked, a slanted smile that exposed the whites of his teeth, but his eyes were soft, warm. The man adjusted the umbrella and stepped closer to Jao.
“That rain came out of nowhere!” he said, chuckling and glancing at the dark clouds. A single drop of rain marked a lazy path down the line of his jaw and Jao couldn’t help but watch.
Jao was too stunned, and his vision dizzied by bright red , and words escaped him, as they so often did. He managed only to lift his hands in greeting, but even a simple wai disoriented him, and he stumbled, just a bit, just enough to nearly turn over his tripod. A little whine escaped him, and as he caught his camera, so did Sky catch him.
Oh. It was p’Sky before him, it was p’Sky’s umbrella above him, and it was p’Sky’s hand – his scalding hot hand – on his waist. He’d seen Sky once, a year ago, and never again since, but Jao wondered, distantly, like a cry too far away to grasp, how he could forget such a man.
Sky smiled down at him. “Is your camera okay?”
Jao’s breath hitched but he nodded; somehow, in that moment, actions seemed easier than words. Sky’s eyebrows set and his shoulders relaxed. “Oh, that’s a relief,” he said. Then he paused. “You don’t look like a photographer.”
Jao clutched his tripod closer to his chest, almost defensive. Sky looked him up and down. “The ones I’ve met so far have an ‘artist vibe’,” he said, and there, the smirk was back (if it was ever gone at all). “You look quite nerdy.”
Jao huffed, his eyes narrowing. “Why? Can’t nerds take photos?”
Sky tilted his head, lips turned up in mock consideration but his gaze never left Jao’s face. “Hmm, sure,” he conceded, with no real heart. “Why not?”
Jao took a step back, but his sneaker fell into a puddle; he’d forgotten where he was, so caught in a bubble like a dew drop at dawn, but the warm water shocked him, forcing him ever closer to Sky. “You’ll have to show me your skills sometime,” he said, leaning down. “What’s your name?”
Jao barely registered the words. Sky clicked his tongue. “Don’t leave me hanging.”
“My name?” Jao mumbled, hoping the patter of rain would drown him out. Sky quirked an eyebrow, so clearly amused, and nodded, a quick jerk of his head. Jao looked about himself, darting from his camera, to Sky, to the rain-soaked leaves of the brown palm trees and the street lamps that lined the front of the gymnasium, and inevitably, back to Sky. His stare was a challenge, though not unkind, and Jao parted his lips, ready to push back, when:
“Ai’Sky, where are you?” a voice called, and just beyond Sky, Jao could see, stood what must be a dozen people exiting the back door of the gym, dressed in similar wear to Sky.
Sky’s attention hadn’t yet diverted; his gaze was still locked on Jao, in a look of fascination. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.
“Ai’Sky!” a different voice called, loud enough to shake Sky from his stupor. He turned to trace the source of the voice, long enough for Jao to wrap his camera in his cardigan, his fingers shaking. His moment of bravery had melted to shame and embarrassment, and he felt so distinctly conscious of his bare arms and the soaked rim of his pink shirt, dipping now to expose his collarbone. He backed away, flinching when the first drops of rain touched his head.
Sky looked back to him, but Jao was quickly putting distance between them, trying desperately to ignore how his clothes stuck to him like waterlogged pages of a book. Sky stepped forward. “What are you doing?” he called. “It’s pouring!”
Jao grimaced but waved him away, and barely heard his own words in the drummings of rain around him, when he cried back, “I’m okay, it’s really okay! I need to… meet my friend, so I’ll leave first!”
“Wait!” Sky yelled, and the red umbrella shuttered like a flower caught in the wind, desperate. “My name is Sky! What’s your name?”
But Jao was already gone.
“Who was that?” Kongkwan asked, her own umbrella bumping against Sky’s as she approached. Fon shivered in the rain next to her. Sky’s eyes were miles away when he answered.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, eyebrows drawing together. “I have no idea at all.”
The rain began to subside. Sky could almost see the sun again.
“Kwan,” he said. “Invite anyone and everyone to the party. Everyone should be allowed to come.”
His eyes didn’t stray from the same spot until Fon and Kongkwan forced him to leave.
i’ll get there at 7~ see you soon ^^
Jao tapped on his phone to like the message from Toh before sliding it into his back pocket. He hiked his camera bag further up his shoulder and sent one last, forlorn glance to his tripod, neglected on his desk. He couldn’t bring his baby tonight; stationary shots didn’t quite serve the atmosphere of a party, and truth be told, he couldn’t risk harming the poor thing.
Nerves didn’t quite describe the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach, but it was the only word that came to mind. What else could explain the coils of heat, of humidity, that burned the tip of his fingers or the tepid taste of rain on his tongue? Jao didn’t do well in unfamiliar environments, especially without his friends. Toh would be occupied all night, as would Jao, and he couldn’t even bring his tripod – he would be well and truly on his own.
When Jao left his dormitory, just minutes later, the sun still hung well in the sky and traffic was heavy; he hoped he didn’t leave too early, though he knew he had, but the nerves in his stomach tickled and he couldn’t sit still any longer. He stepped down from the front steps and onto the pavement. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When he opened his eyes, he was ready. As much as this night stirred him, he was on a mission. He’d agreed to help his best friend and that’s what he’d planned to do, no matter the cost. His camera hung heavy on his shoulder.
“Girls, what do we have here?”
Jao was forced to a stop by the sudden, shrill voice in front of him. Three girls blocked his path, hands on hips or across chests, and Jao had to focus to remember their names. He’d seen them before at university functions, and often obstructing Toh’s shots of p’Nuea, but from pictures and glances alone, he couldn’t tell their intentions. A half-bitten sneer on the shortest girl’s face may be hint enough, though.
Jao stiffened.
“I’m actually glad we came this way,” the tallest one, in the middle, said, perching a polished finger on her chin. She looked Jao up and down, and Jao shifted under her gaze. His own fingers dug into the loose fabric of his sweater, but he was unable to move further. He’d worn his usual clothes, a comfortable pair of jeans and a pink sweater, but compared to the girls in their tagged dresses and high heels, he felt completely out of place.
“Ugh, why, Prao?” the last one asked, her blonde ponytails bobbing. “This is where the… poor kids live.”
“We just have a small errand to run,” the shortest girl – Peach, Jao’s scattered brain supplied – said. Her sneer deepened as she considered him. “Make that a big errand.”
Jao didn’t think he was exceptionally brave. He found strength and safety in his friend’s courage, not his own, and should he find himself in a troubling circumstance, he almost always had his friends by his side. With Toh’s encouragement, he was still learning to participate more readily in class discussions. He felt pinned under three identical, fiery gazes and couldn’t muster the will to move away.
“What?” Prao said. “Don’t have anything to say for yourself?”
What could Jao say? He couldn’t even fathom why they were speaking to him, when he’d never so much as looked at them before, let alone scorned them. He was inconsequential, he knew that, and those that actually knew of his existence knew that; he had hoped he left his bullies in his secondary school days, but here he stood, like a fifteen-year-old again, as his classmates poked his stomach and pulled his ears. Red, like ugly blotches of watercolor paint, soiled his cheeks.
“I need to go,” he stuttered, voice like a whisper. “Excuse me.”
He tried to move past them, head down and shoulders hunched in, but the last girl – Waiwai – stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. Jao’s feet skidded against the road as he was pushed back and distantly he thinks he could run, he could push back, there’s always a way out like his father once said, but he was rooted to the spot and rooted in his own mind and memories. Distorted pictures of girls whispering behind hands, of his homeroom teacher’s pitying looks, and of his mother’s sighs as she purchased another new set of uniforms flooded his eyes, and his lip quivered.
“If you think you’re going to Sky’s party, you’re dead wrong,” Peach said, scoffing. “Look at you. You’re as pink and round as a pig.”
“And you certainly look like one,” Waiwai said, pushing his chest again.
If Som were here, Jao thought she’d say, “ And your face looks as sour as a lemon!” but Som was not here, and the words caught in his throat.
Prao stepped forward. “Don’t think for a second that someone like you belongs at a party like this . Are you slow? You don’t belong there. So let me say this to you kindly, because I don’t want to see you embarrass yourself.”
Waiwai giggled behind them and whispered something to Peach, who looked very proud of herself even though she wasn’t the one speaking. Her chest seemed to puff out with every word Prao spoke.
Prao stalked closer and Jao moved back, his fingers digging almost painfully into his sides. She smirked. “You’ll never belong there. In fact, you’d probably make everyone uncomfortable if you went. Save yourself the trouble and go somewhere you’re actually wanted.”
She turned to leave, beckoning her friends to follow her. She looked over her shoulder at him once more and snickered, perhaps unable to help herself. “Maybe a gym?”
Jao couldn’t recall how much time had passed before he was able to move again; it started in his fingers, movement, when he finally relaxed his grip on his sweater, and moved to his shoulders, as his stiff posture finally relaxed. His legs took the longest, for he worried if he moved too quickly, he would collapse on himself and on the street. The same visions danced in his eyesight.
He stumbled back, his long-neglected camera bag slipping from his shoulder to land on the pavement, and he couldn’t catch himself before he fell onto the front steps of his dormitory. He pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face, his eyes and nose burning. The world slowed to still around him and he was alone in the center, as ugly and heavy as he was. A tear slipped from his tight eyes to fall onto the pavement below him. Behind his eyelids, like a shield from his unsightly illusions, grew an umbrella, red, like his blotchy cheeks.
“– that Jao?” he heard. “Som, that’s Jao!”
Jao wiped his wet eyes with the sleeve of the cardigan and looked up; Som and Daisy were standing above him, frowns on their pretty faces. Jao let out a nervous, breathy laugh, hollow like his sunken chest, and moved to stand, but a gentle hand on his shoulder slowed him. Daisy squeezed his shoulder and her once vibrant eyes softened.
“Jao,” Som said, quiet in the still evening. She sounded so unsure, so weak, and it was because of Jao , and the pit in his chest grew ever deeper. Whatever strength he had left in his body crumbled and he slumped in on himself, yet no tears came.
“I can’t go,” Jao whispered.
Som and Daisy slipped down quietly on either side of him. Daisy cradled Jao’s head in the crook of her neck, and Jao smelled sugar on her skin, the same sweet scent she always wore, and Som intertwined her fingers with his, her thumb routing a familiar path against his hand. She leaned in close.
“You don’t have to go,” she said. “But can you tell us what happened?”
Jao’s lips trembled. “The same thing that always happens.”
He felt them share a look over his head and he knew he needn’t say more. Som sniffed quietly and rubbed at her eyes, then she moved to settle her head on Jao’s shoulder, and for one blissful, easy moment, Jao felt just a little safer, burrowed so deeply in his friends’ embraces. The world began to spin again, and he felt it, the lurch as it moved.
Daisy shifted against him. “Jao,” she said, so he lifted his tired eyes to look at her. “You can’t go, or you don’t want to go?”
Jao’s phone pinged.
i got lost! i’m waiting for the next bus, so i’ll be there in 30 minutes! <3
Daisy read Toh’s messages from over Jao’s shoulder. “Toh will be waiting for you soon,” she murmured, not unkindly, and Som nodded against Jao’s side. Jao looked down to his hands, locked with Som’s, and tightened his grasp. He didn’t respond.
“It’s never about what you can’t do, Jao,” Daisy said. “You can do anything you want. And, okay, yes, I know what you’re going to say, so don’t say it.” She leveled him with an even stare and Jao closed his mouth, a small smile toying at the seam of his lips despite himself. “If you want to go to the party, then you will, and it’s not up to me, or Som, or anyone else to tell you to do otherwise.”
Som hummed in agreement. “Remember when we met?” she said through a small, teary grin. “Remember what Daisy tried to wear?”
Jao let out a watery laugh, and Daisy tsked beside him, turning up her nose. “Clothing is genderless, and that’s true for uniforms, too.”
“Right, right,” Som said, chuckling. “And Daisy, after the orientation leaders yelled at you, what did Jao say to you?”
Daisy’s smile was as wide as the evening sky, and just as bright, when she replied, in a pitched imitation of Jao, “‘Ai’Daisy, wear what you’re comfortable with. You can do whatever you want!’”
“I don’t sound like that,” Jao said, though he very much did, and he hid his smile in Daisy’s arms even as a few stray tears escaped his eyes, but it didn’t burn, and it wasn’t painful, and rather felt good. A heavy weight hadn’t been lifted from his shoulders, but it had been lessened, and he felt grateful to his friends for helping him carry the burden. He sniffled into the hug and Som cooed, wrapping her own arms around him as well.
After a moment, they separated, and Daisy looked carefully into Jao’s gaze. “What are you thinking now, hmm?”
“I think,” and his voice tapered off. He stared up into the sky but saw no trace of clouds, only an open, endless sea of blue, and he exhaled. “I think I want to go.”
Daisy cheered and pulled him to his feet, supporting his brief dizzy spell, and declared, “Then I have the best idea! Som, are you thinking what I'm thinking?”
Som jumped up and nodded, a secretive smile on her lips. “I know the best place to go!”
Jao eyed them, but let himself be pulled along and stopped only to collect his camera bag, and, when he finally saw Som and Daisy’s complete looks, to ask, “Why are you two so dressed up?”
Som giggled. “Didn’t you hear? The party isn’t invite-only anymore. Anyone can go.”
Jao felt the party sooner than he saw the party.
It was as if the very ground beneath their taxi pulsed in rhythm to the music and the lights that adorned the busy streets were just decoration, dim when compared to the blistering strobe lights of the venue. When the car pulled up to the club, parked at the edge of the building at Jao’s insistence, he was struck with just how odd and foreign this was, and his stomach jumped. He grimaced and watched helplessly as Som and Daisy pressed their noses to the glass window, breathing almost as loudly as the bass vibrated.
“The meter is running,” the driver said. Daisy passed the man her card, and in a shorter time than he would’ve liked, Jao found himself outside the club, Som and Daisy at either side, staring up at the luminescent, blinding sign in awe. Even the butterflies in his stomach stilled.
GLASS .
Jao squirmed and pulled at the hem of his jacket, his eyes darting from the side door to the main door. An incredible crowd tittered and pushed at the entrance of the club, anxious for entry, and though the invitation had been extended to all who wished to attend, the capacity seemed to have been quickly breached. Throes of young adults, dressed in the latest fashions and the tightest clothes, mobbed the bouncers, a fair few cameramen hastened for appealing shots, and a line of people, resigned to their fate, lined the brick wall of the building, smoking.
Jao wondered where he fit in.
To his left, the side door creaked open, and Toh’s sharp face peeked out, eyes wide behind his wire frames. He spotted them almost immediately, relief flooding his features, and he called them over with rapid shakes of his hands. “Jao, Som, Daisy, quickly, come here!”
They scurried over. Toh held the door open for them, peeking over his shoulder to send wary looks to some of the more desperate attendees, but none even so much as glanced their way. Their focus was entirely on the front entrance.
The side door clicked shut behind them and they were quickly draped in purple light, residual strobes from the main floor. Daisy giggled, a giddy little sound, and pulled out her phone to check her appearance in the camera; Som pushed her aside to do the same, tugging at stray curls impatiently. Jao fiddled with the cuffs of his blazer, biting his lip.
“Wow, Jao…” Toh said, his voice small in surprise and wonder. He adjusted his glasses. “You look amazing!”
Daisy rolled her eyes and let out a bark of laughter. “ Amazing ? That doesn’t even cover the half of it ,” she said, slapping Toh’s shoulder lightly. Som took Jao’s shoulders in her hands and moved him in a circle, cooing again like a proud mother. “Jao is a masterpiece!” Daisy continued. “ Our masterpiece.”
Jao’s cheeks pinked and he looked away.
“I knew the moment I saw this blazer that Jao had to wear it,” Daisy preened. “We all know that our Kaojao is the cutest boy on campus – no offense, Toh –” to which Toh, seemingly still in a trance, waved off the slight with a shake of his head, “but I always knew he could be the hottest boy on campus, too! And that is what Som and I have brought to you tonight.”
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Toh said, but he came to his senses with a blink and one of his easy, impish smiles. “Jao, you really look so good.”
Jao met his eyes and then shifted to meet Daisy’s, and Som’s, each one in turn, and before he could shoo them off, before he could dismiss them, he paused. He’d grown so accustomed to believing sincerity always had an impetus, an opposing motivation, that he now faced a damning truth: why could he so easily believe the words of those against him and never the words of those who loved him?
So he swallowed the bile of denial in his throat. Despite himself, a shy smile grew on his lips, and a pretty blush bloomed on his cheeks, light enough to mirror the shade of his suit.
He wore a pair of fitted, crisp trousers, cut above the ankle to expose skin and the faux leather of his black loafers. A blazer to match the pants fit him like it’d been tailored against his own body. The blazer trimmed his waist and two identical zippers moved down the length of his chest to meet below the hem of his trousers. The neck was deep, far deeper than any shirt Jao could even conceive, and a silver pendant hung from his neck, framed like art between two sharp lapels.
He hadn’t been transformed. He was still himself, still perfectly Jao, but he had been dusted to shine, and Jao hoped he could. Shine.
Som took hold of his hand and squeezed his fingers, just as she had done earlier, and she didn’t need words to speak, but Jao knew he did, so he sniffed through a watery smile, and with all three in his eyes, he said, “Thank you.”
Toh gasped and drew them in for a big hug, and the weight on Jao’s shoulders lifted just a bit more, and he could breathe just a bit easier. He closed his eyes, content to stay this way forever if he had the chance.
“Well, then,” Som said, pulling away to dab at her eyes lest her makeup run, and Toh offered her a sheepish smile. “Daisy and I have a date with the dance floor, and you two have a job to do.”
“Thanks for getting us in,” Daisy said, winking at Toh and Jao before linking arms with Som and leading her out of the back room. They disappeared into the brilliant light of the dance floor.
Jao crouched to assemble his camera with a practiced hand, and as he looped the strap around his neck, he sent a meaningful look Toh’s way. “Don’t follow p’Nuea around all night.”
Jao stood and played with the settings for a moment, a small, knowing smirk on his lips. “And I better not catch you with any keepsakes , okay?”
Toh shoved Jao’s shoulder and laughed. “Kaojao gets a new look and now he’s not my cute best friend anymore. Now he’s mean to me!”
“Crazy,” Jao said, without any real heat, and gratefully took Toh’s arm in his own as they followed Som and Daisy into the neon lights.
The floor was unlike anything Jao had ever seen before. The high ceilings encased two different landings; the top housed hidden canopies, sheltered with elegant silver drapes, and a large music booth, where a DJ was bobbing her head along to the music; laid out before him on the first floor, like an expanse of ocean, was the dance floor, and people moved like waves against each other to the rhythm of the music and the lights. A loud splash turned Jao’s head, and with a choked gasp, he noticed a sizable pool in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with swimsuits and suits alike.
Jao swallowed and his throat burned. Toh lifted his camera and gestured for Jao to do the same, and when the viewfinder came into focus, he fell quickly into his camera’s comfort and the outside world faded away. The people in his photos did not appear as before him, they were merely subjects to fill the canvas, and the high tables were not obstructions, but rather palm trees, framing the shot perfectly. The walls and ceiling were bathed in flashing purples, pinks, and blues, and it wasn’t unlike the sunset that Jao favored so much.
His feet carried him from one shot to the next. Some posed for the camera, raising glasses in the air or perching dangerous hands on hips, and some hardly noticed his presence, too engrossed in their own games. But, too, a few paused to look him over with appreciative eyes and secretive smiles. As he floated through the thick throngs of dancing bodies, his heart grew full. Maybe, he thought, maybe I do belong here.
He found himself in the middle of the dance floor.
A glaring and lustrous light hit the lens just right, and Jao stopped, lowering the camera and blinking quickly in irritation. When the lights cleared, he slowly opened his eyes, and finally realized where he now stood. The camera fell from his grasp.
Just before him, peering down at him with a look of certain wonder on his face, was Sky, dressed in that same brilliant red he wore on the day they met.
Sky leaned down, dripping appeal like fresh water, the same fresh water that perfused Jao’s tongue earlier, and Sky smiled. “I’d hoped to see you again.”
Jao’s heart stilled.