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At that time, there were only the two of them in New York.
In fact, they had only met — or rather, reunited — two weeks ago.
"It's best to wear more clothes when you go out tomorrow, the temperature is the worst during this time of the year," Mu said.
They were walking on the sidewalk, around three or four in the afternoon. It was an ordinary weekday, and there were not many people on the street.
"It’s cold indeed, buy me a cup of hot coffee, then. How long have you been here?"
"I've been in and out Netherlands. But I started applying to universities in the United States, about three years ago."
"Oh, so you're still a student..." The blond young man showed a teasing expression and pulled the shoulder strap of his backpack.
Mu saw a coffee shop across the street and pulled the blonde "Let's go, I'm a little hungry."
They crossed the street, the cars slowed down because of them, the drivers shouted and several people across the street also took the opportunity to walk.
They were just two young men living their lives in New York.
Mu pushed the door of the coffee shop to open it. Shaka stood under the steps, pursed his lips, and looked at him with a teasing smile in his blue eyes. "Mu, is this a habitual action of yours?"
Mu was taken aback, lowered his gaze, and found out that he was still holding Shaka's hand.
It feels a little different now. Mu thought with a smile.
He let go of his hand and greeted the waiter who approached.
The heating was already working in the coffee shop. People who weren’t on the streets seemed to be curled up there, leaning on the sofa to read, drink tea, and scan lazily through the newspapers. Mu and Shaka sat down in front of a small round table, the sofa was so soft that people sank into it.
Mu took off his coat and put it on the armrest, he looked at the menu,
"Two cups of black tea, thank you."
After looking around, Shaka deviated his gaze, put his hands on the table to support his chin, and looked at Mu again without speaking.
Mu returned the gaze, moved the corners of his mouth, and smiled as if he wanted to say something, but he gave up.
"Do you want to say something?" Shaka raised his eyebrows.
“No.” Mu looked away, "So, I already told you that I'm studying here — what are you doing here?”
Shaka waved a hand absent-mindedly. He held a cigarette and was looking for a lighter in his black backpack with the other hand.
“You started smoking again?"
“Again?” Shaka asked, curiously.
Mu ignited his lighter and stretched it out in front of him.
"Thanks." Shaka breathed a sigh of relief, "I just arrived in New York two weeks ago, and I didn't expect it to be so cold. It's still warm in Amsterdam, I came here with no appropriate clothes."
"Are you here for graduation vacation?"
" What are you doing here? Why are you here? When did you come here? " Shaka imitated Mu's tone contemptuously, "I have decided to come to New York to live."
"Welcome, then."
Seeing him smoking this cigarette, I can't tell... are these real memories or is it only time going too fast? Did he come to New York after me? Or was it a coincidence?
The waiter brought their black tea.
"Bring an ashtray, please," Mu asked.
Shaka picked up the cup and enjoyed the warmth.
"What are you studying?" Mu looked curiously at Shaka’s idle expression.
This didn't change at all.
Shaka curled his lips, "Arts. Painting. But I came to New York because of an art magazine. The publisher wants me to be a writer. They seemed very happy with my exhibitions and also enjoyed some of my previous articles."
"It took me two weeks to find out what you are studying. I wouldn’t have thought you were a visual artist. So this is what you did when we were in the Netherlands." Mu took a sip from his teacup, "It seems that we never talked about anything related to studies."
"Huh." Shaka puffed on his cigarette again "What about you, are you graduating this summer?"
Mu snapped his fingers and smiled, "Yes, in theory."
"So, in the end, you are not the professional drug dealer I thought you were," Shaka said, playfully waving the box of cigarettes that Mu got him some days ago.
Mu shrugged and then laughed "I’m also staying in New York. I never thought there was anything else that would interest me, but I’ve found something."
"People here are obviously not as interesting as the Europeans." Shaka said more to himself than to Mu, flipping through the dessert list with his fingers, "Can I have a cake?"
"Of course." Mu laughed, "And you are right. But although they are boring, they are more willing to spend money. And that's why I stay in this country."
"New York... my professor of modern world history called it ‘a forest of Christmas Tree’." Shaka pointed to a name in the list to the waiter who had been waiting for a long time at the table, "Hazelnut mousse."
"Double," Mu added.
The waiter walked away, neither of them knew what to say for a moment, so they picked up the teacup tacitly and allowed their thoughts to fly away.
The door of the coffee shop kept being pushed open and closed, bringing in gusts of cold air.
Mu got a cigarette case from his coat and handed it to Shaka, who took out one.
Pressing their foreheads, Shaka lit Mu’s cigarette. White smoke lingered in the air instantly, Shaka frowned.
"What kind of smell is this?"
Mu smiled, "This is the most expensive tobacco I found on the black market in Istanbul."
"Your hobbies are always so..." Shaka gave up trying to find a word. He cautiously smelled the smoke again, but his expression still held a frown. "The Turks love a little fun."
"You know, you are much more talkative than before." Mu suddenly said.
“Excuse me?” Shaka asked puzzled, but Mu just laughed.
Shaka raised his head, his blue eyes stared at the opposite person through a cloud of white smoke, and he slowly raised the corners of his mouth, "It is often difficult for people to change things. But things can easily change people. Maybe this is what happened to me."
"Actually, I never knew what was going on in your head, so I was a little afraid to talk to you," Mu said honestly.
"Oh? Such a thoughtful comment about someone you have known for long two weeks.” Shaka pointed out sharply “But we are barely adults. I bet you also think that the whole world looks stupid except ourselves. It's a teenager's thought." Shaka smiled, taking the Turkish cigarette out of Mu’s mouth and extinguishing it since he couldn't tolerate the smell. "What about now? Are you still afraid to talk to me? "
"Now I finally found peace of mind to be with you." Mu leaned his neck back on the sofa "Probably because we are growing older."
Shaka displayed a noncommittal expression, and their desserts were just served.
A thin layer of autumn sunlight peeked out from behind the clouds, and the coffee shop suddenly lit up. The sunlight reflected from the road and shone on the side of Shaka's face. Mu stared at the tiny blue rings in Shaka’s irises, which were almost transparent.
Mu felt a little sleepy, he knew he would have to work the next day. "My dear, don't eat too much. I want to treat you to dinner later."
Shaka had already wiped out the entire piece of mousse, but the plate on the opposite side remained motionless. "Last time you said it, you took me to McDonald's."
"Don't worry, we're going to eat the best Japanese food in New York."
"Then I'll go back to the hotel first, and take the thickest winter coat to wear." Shaka folded his arms and leaned back on the sofa with long blond hair cascading around his body.
Shaka thought about the sunshine of a distant place in his memory, silent pictures passed in an instant. All of them had Mu.
I don't know what has changed, and I don't know where this familiar feeling comes from. Is this a natural feeling because I’m getting older, so the memories are also changing?
🍁
"I need to ask something: how did you know today is my birthday?"
“It was just a guess. I knew you would be a Virgo in every lifetime.”
Shaka fastened his seat belt and Mu started the car. Their gaze met. Disbelief graced every corner of Shaka’s expression.
Mu laughed “I glanced at your passport when we went to the coffee shop."
"No wonder you were so kind and invited me to eat sushi in an expensive place..." Shaka leaned back in the chair. A faint smell of sake floated in the car. "It's kind of weird though... this is my first birthday far from England."
Mu looked at him from the rearview mirror, "How do you feel?"
"I think birthday celebrations are just an excuse for everyone to drink together." Shaka laughed, "Hey, have you ever had a hallucination, or let’s say, a dream or nightmare, for example, that you are in your early 20s but have the fate of the entire Earth in your back?"
"Jesus Christ, Shaka.” Mu laughed loudly “You are only twenty years old and want to be this greedy? Carrying the destiny of humanity in your back?” He slowly turned the steering wheel and entered the tunnel under Central Park.
Orange lights passed quietly from outside the glass, one by one.
"I don't know... I have a feeling that I’ve been living a dream, and I will wake up suddenly to another reality." Shaka looked at the dark horizon of the tunnel, the lights shining on his face were very warm.
“I can relate,” Mu said. And then, both were silent for a while.
"This tunnel is really long," Shaka said.
Mu smiled, "You rarely say such meaningless and non-critical words."
“Did you conclude it upon competent research during these two weeks?” Shaka asked with a sarcastic smile.
“I don’t know, I just think I know you for a very long time.”
“You are just trying to bed me.” Shaka huffed a laugh.
Mu grinned at Shaka's bluntness.
“Yes, I'd love to bed you. But if it was only that, I wouldn’t need much effort. Or would I?”
“Asshole.” Shaka glared at him but didn't sneer back.
Full of food, sitting in a warm car and watching the night scene of Manhattan passing through the glass like a silent movie was also a lot of fun. Shaka didn’t regret not staying in England.
New York was a forest of Christmas trees, indeed.
It was already midnight when the car entered into a quiet residential area. Shaka rubbed his eyes and got attentive, "Aren't you going to take me back to the hotel?"
"Does your hotel have access control?" The garage door slowly opened, and Mu turned off the car.
Shaka shrugged, "I'm going to the magazine to meet the editor tomorrow morning, and I also have to go to the immigration office to do a bunch of things."
"What time?"
"At eight-thirty. And I don't know where the magazine’s building is yet."
"Don't worry, I’ll drive you there so you don't have to take the subway." Mu smiled and opened the door.
"You live alone? It's too basic." Shaka looked at the white walls and the gray stairs, "I'm wondering if I should start a side job with you and decorate this place properly."
"If you want a side job with me, you shouldn't be drinking by yourself and flirting with the bartender." Mu teased.
Shaka laughed "Oh? I thought you were absorbed in your small business as a drug dealer." Shaka picked up a rattan box under the coffee table, which contained all kinds of cigars, "You really like to collect this."
"If you dig slowly, you will find a lot of interesting things here." Mu took off his coat, rolled up his shirt cuffs, and went to the kitchen to prepare a tea. "There are Ceylon, Chinese tea, English Earl, Darjeeling, which one do you want?"
"I will drink anything you make.” Shaka leaned on the sofa “I could trust you with my life, knowing you wouldn't disappoint me."
Mu felt a sting in his heart upon hearing the sentence. He wasn’t entirely sure about the reason.
Shaka trailed his fingers through the shisha pipe, finding the cinnamon aroma a little strange. He didn’t know where Mu got it. He put down the pipe with a grin and looked around curiously.
"Let's go upstairs, I don’t like sitting in the living room." Mu leaned against the kitchen door with a teapot and cups.
Shaka stood up lazily.
There was a faint scent floating through the whole house... a mixture of tea, cigarettes, and perfume. The kind of scent that makes people sleep comfortably. They sat on the bed and turned on a low lamp placed at the bedside. The light filtered through the blue Venetian onyx glass, soaking the room like a pool of water. Shaka felt that after several days of busy work, he finally had the desire to have a relaxing sleep night.
But unfortunately, tomorrow was not far away.
"Your tea is very delicious." Shaka said with a smile while holding the porcelain cup, "I had no idea you lived in such a big house. I was just remembering the first time I saw you. You wore T-shirts and jeans, and carried that big leather bag all around, trying your best to find cigarettes as souvenirs."
"I can't help it. In Europe, I’m nothing but a pauper." Mu explained.
Shaka acquiesced and realized that Mu was staring at him again with a half-smile.
"...Don't tell me that your expression doesn't convey any meaning."
Mu smiled and put down his teacup, "I’d like to tell you so many things... Don't stare at me like this, I know I'm not the only one with this feeling. It shocked me to realize today’s meeting was a complete accident and that my expectations weren’t meaningless —"
Shaka hugged the pillow and listened carefully to Mu's words, then he turned his gaze to the lamp on the bedside, blue Venetian onyx glass... “I don’t think there are coincidences in this world.”
Shaka smiled lightly, ever observant.
Mu, I feel that your pain is what makes you the most complete person I ever met. You are so real.
He reflected on this thought for a while, and then commented casually
"This lamp is broken..."
Mu followed Shaka’s gaze “What's the problem?"
"The problem is that we are wasting time" Shaka embraced Mu's neck, tangling his fingers in lilac hair.
Of course, the violet eyes understood what he meant, but he didn't say anything. He just slowly slid his hands through Shaka’s body, placing them on his waist.
"Shaka, you haven't changed at all." Mu teased.
Shaka didn't deny it. He approached him, and whispered, "We're adults now, aren't we?"
Mu gently turned the last few centimeters into a kiss "That's right."
Therefore, their second time should still be regarded as Shaka's initiative. But Mu knew, of course, that no one needed to be responsible.
Even though it was their second time, it still felt like embracing that same person again and again.
Shaka was a magnet pulling him strongly towards him. And vice versa.
Some things are hidden. Some others are clear.
I still don't understand what is all that.
I feel like I have long forgotten the feeling of kissing someone, and I’m remembering it again now I’m tasting his lips.
He is just a person with a pair of blue eyes, and this is just a kiss.
This is what I tell myself. But it’s much more than that.
He is a magnet.
His eyes are a magnet.
Blue Venetian onyx glass...
But it’s a golden light instead.
Golden light dangling in his half-dream and half-awake state.
Golden light and pink petals soaked in blood.
Blood dripping from his hands.
Blue eyes and blue beads.
A lotus gate.
This is the most stinging picture in Mu's memory.
But it doesn’t matter anymore. He doesn’t have to lose anything anymore.
He looked at the watch by the bed, it was half past five. The entire neighborhood was probably curled up under the covers, sleeping soundly. But he wasn't asleep at all, he was just tired.
After lighting a cigarette, Mu thought about what time he was going to wake up Shaka, and which way had the least traffic so he could drive to the magazine...
Probably because of the smell of smoke or the faint cigarette light, the person in the bed moved, stretching his beautiful naked body.
"What time is it?" He asked sleepily.
"It's still early, go back to sleep." Mu patted him on the shoulder.
Shaka sat up, tangling his arms around Mu’s neck, "Let me hug you."
"There are pillows downstairs, I'll get some for you."
Shaka snorted, "I don’t want pillows."
Mu continued to smoke his cigarette, holding Shaka in his arms; Shaka rested his head on his chest. It turned out that their breathing rates and heartbeats were very similar.
"Hey, have you ever thought that after a person dies..." Shaka leaned closer to Mu's ear, "Someday, no one in the world will remember them anymore? I think this is quite tragic."
Mu glanced at him, the last ray of moon before the dawn shone on his eyes. A melancholy from the depths of the night reflected in his blue eyes, trying to pierce Mu’s soul.
Suddenly, all kinds of world phenomena flashed through his mind in an instant memory, and something stabbed fiercely in his heart, and the pain made him wake up alertly and abruptly.
All the sadness and fear that were quietly hidden in the halls of his mind came to light when those blue eyes suddenly uttered the word "death".
He finally understood where that painful sting was coming from.
Mu leaned over Shaka and immediately hugged him. Tightly, so tightly, as if he was never going to let him go.
"Shaka, happy 21st birthday.”