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Chase hated dates.
Well, hate was a strong word.
He didn’t hate dates.
Sure, they made him bored and anxious, and the thought of them overwhelmed him, but he was still attracted to the person, mind you, that was never the problem.
He also never had a problem with what happened after the date, and he would always awkwardly try to skip to that part.
He even thought he was gay at one point, but quickly debunked his theory after the date was just as awkward and uncomfortable as normal and the sex was even worse. It’s something to check off the bucket list, at least.
Still, dates were weird to him. After Cameron divorced him, he never felt a need to go on them, or experience them with someone.
“Hello, Earth to Chase?” Park started again, snapping Chase back to reality.
“Er, sorry, yes,” Chase replied, eyes refocusing on Park’s.
“Did you hear me?” Park raised her eyebrow.
“Of course,” Chase deflected, “Could – could you repeat yourself, though?”
Park paused. “Nevermind,” she sighed, turning to leave.
“No, I’m listening,” Chase pushed, “What did you say?”
“I asked you if you wanted to go on a date,” Park clarified, her tone dripping with irritation.
Chase inhaled. “Right. Well, er, the thing about that is-”
“I know, you hate me and never wanted to speak to me.”
“That’s not it,” Chase elaborated with a hand gesture, trying to calm the other down, “I just… I don’t like dates very much.”
“Right, you hook up with people and abandon them the next day,” Park replied, her tone condescending.
Chase opened his mouth to reply, but closed it instead. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that Park was right. Ever since Allison divorced him, he hasn’t been able to pursue a relationship. Sure, he’s never felt like he wanted to, but there was no real harm in trying, right?
He sighed. “You know what, we can go on a date. I can pick you up at 6:30?” He offered, a hand gesture accompanying his words.
Park eyed Chase, looking for any sign of dishonesty. She tried to hide the smile crawling on her face.
“That works,” she nodded, keeping her words quick, before turning and leaving.
Chase smiled as he watched the neurologist leave. He tried to be excited, but he couldn’t bring himself to overcome the stress. He’d just put himself into a death trap.
No, he’s obviously exaggerating. Dates aren’t death traps . I mean, sure, they feel like death traps, but he has free will. He can leave whenever he wants.
He probably shouldn’t, though. He still likes Park, and he wouldn’t do that to her.
-
Chase pulled open the doors of his wardrobe for the third time. He quickly picked through his clothes again, before he had to remind himself that the perfect outfit was not going to appear out of thin air.
He moved to his bathroom mirror, leaning his palms on the sink and staring at his reflection. He turned his head, keeping eye contact with himself, overthinking how he looked again.
He ran his hand through his hair, fixing a strand that had fallen out of place.
It fell out of place again.
He tried again, to no avail.
He tousled his hair in frustration, giving a sharp exhale. He wondered loudly as to why dates were always so irritating . He had to have a formal outfit, style his hair so tediously he was better off going to a hairdresser, and he knew he was just going to be bored out of his mind.
He sorted through his wardrobe again, putting together a barely coherent outfit and fitting it on. He examined himself in the mirror, frowning at how the autumn cardigan he wore sat too low on his shoulders. At that point he’d given up, and he didn’t bother to style his hair before swiftly leaving his apartment. He almost forgot to grab his wallet.
-
Chase stepped out of his car, slamming the door behind him. He spun his keys around his finger as he walked, sliding them into his pocket alongside his hand.
The street was quiet. Cars occasionally meandered down the streets, but for the most part all he could hear was his own, barely audible footsteps.
Every so often, he would look up at the houses passing next to him, seeing if he could spot a street number. He would lightly nod to himself, mentally logging how close he was to Park’s house.
He eventually found the right building, walking up to the door. He brought his hand up to knock on the door, but paused before he made any noise.
Right now was his last chance to ditch this whole plan and drive back home.
He hesitated, his hand lowering slightly.
He dreaded having to sit at that table, across Park, with that plate in front of him, and that cramped chair he’d have to tolerate, and that underlying expectation to be the perfect gentleman and do everything perfectly and be perfect , to be the perfect boyfriend.
Ugh, boyfriend . The word didn’t sit right on his tongue. He could be Park’s boyfriend if he went through with this. He hated the idea of it.
He liked Park as a friend, but did he really like her enough to do this ?
He was about to turn around and leave, when the door he was standing in front of swung open. He quickly dropped his hand.
“Hey,” Park greeted, grinning softly, “I saw you out the window. Do you like my new dress?” She pulled open the door fully to reveal a black dress that fell to her ankles. There was a cut in the right portion of the skirt, which reached her knees. It was strapless, and the top-half of the bodice was dotted with sequins.
Chase eyed Park. “Yeah,” he breathed, “That’s a very nice dress,”
“Right?” Park exclaimed, grinning wider and stepping out of the house. Her heels clacked against the pavement, and as she walked she turned to make sure Chase was walking with her.
“Anyway, there’s a coffee shop that recently opened nearby, I figured we could check that out…” Park continued, although Chase wasn’t listening.
The pair made it to Chase’s car, with the intensivist returning to the driver’s seat and Park sitting next to him.
“So, what do you think of that?” The neurologist asked, turning to face Chase.
Chase nodded, muttering an agreement, before asking for the address of the coffee shop. Park supplied it, and Chase started his car and drove off.
-
Chase picked at his food. He bought a sandwich, but Park asked for half of it. He reluctantly gave her the half, even though he didn’t know why. She could’ve taken all of it, for all he cared. He’d lost his appetite hours ago.
He bounced his knee, unable to sit still. He tried to show interest in Park’s very thorough explanation of her favourite book, but it was impossible. He could barely focus on the neurologist’s words. Everything was too loud.
A group laughed in the background. A server walked by their table, footsteps too jarring. He winced when he heard someone’s fork scrape against their plate. The lights got brighter, forcing him to drop his head. He stared at the vase in the middle of the table, the only thing separating him and Park.
His clothes were too itchy. The chair he sat on grew uncomfortable, and shifting positions sent sharp needles through him.
He grew agitated, trying to ground himself by focusing on something.
He started with his own breath, but as it quickened it only made him panic more.
He then shifted to Park’s voice, as it twisted through the air and cut through the background noise. Doing that only made him realise the gravity of the situation.
He was here . In a coffee shop. On a date . With a colleague . It matters if he messes this up. One thing goes wrong, he has to live with it every day. To top it off, he didn’t even want to be here. He didn’t care about finding a partner. Dates made him stressed. He didn’t want to commit to someone like that.
This felt like his breaking point.
“Are you okay?” Park asked again, leaning closer to Chase in an attempt to make eye contact with him.
“I- I need to go,” Chase breathed, standing up and rushing off.
He threw the bathroom door open, the hum of the coffee shop muting behind him as it swung shut.
He paced to the furthest stall from the door, walking in and slamming it shut behind himself. He locked it.
He leaned against the wall, sliding to the ground. He buried his head in his hands.
He didn’t want to be here. He hated this place. He hated this date. He didn’t care for relationships. He didn’t understand why he was always pushed to date people. Aren’t friendships enough? Does he really have to be romantically involved?
He breathed into his hands, the sound still not enough to drown out the frustration and panic he felt.
He heard someone walk into the room. The person approached the sink, turning it on and washing his hands.
He never should’ve agreed to this date. He never wanted to be here in the first place, why did he even agree ? He should’ve just let Park walk away.
“ Hey dude, are you okay? ”
He didn’t know why he felt like this. He should be happy he’d finally gotten an actual date, because it’s apparently a sign that he’s moving on from his divorce. That he’s recovering.
“ ‘You need me to get anyone for you? ‘You come here with anyone? ”
He didn’t feel like he was recovering. He felt overwhelmed, overstimulated. He felt dizzy. He felt like the last thing he wanted to do was leave this bathroom stall and drag his reluctant limbs back to that damned coffee table where his coworker sat.
“ You’re breathing real hard, man. Are you passed out? ”
The room spun. His heart pounded in his head. He knew this stranger was talking to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to push through the lump in his throat. He couldn’t speak. His throat ceased to move, like it was being sewn shut with a needle made of panic. He couldn’t breathe.
“ I’m gonna go call 911, okay? ”
No. No, he didn’t need to go to the hospital. He was just a little frustrated. He was a doctor, he could tell when he needed medical attention. When he couldn’t will his voice to make any noise, Chase opted to bang on the stall door to alert the other man. His footsteps halted.
“ ‘You awake?” The man said, taking a few steps back towards the stall door. “I’ll get you some help, don’t worry.”
Chase hit his fist against the door again, twice this time. His hand stung for a moment after each impact.
“You don’t want help?” Came the other man’s voice, “Can you- can you speak? Say something?”
I’m trying to, Chase thought. He mentally rolled his eyes, because it hurt too much to actually do so. He reached up, his shaking hands fumbling to unlock the stall door. If he could just let this man know that he was okay, then the man would leave him alone.
“ ‘You need help with that?” The stranger seemed to notice Chase’s attempts at turning the lock, as the intensivist heard footsteps approach the door. Something twisted at the lock with him, and the door slid open with a click.
The other man had pulled the door open, and the pair finally saw each other.
“Jeez, you’re pale , man!” The stranger exclaimed, “Do you need me to call anyone?”
“I…” Chase managed to quake, breathing shallow, “I don’t…”
“If you can’t speak, don’t worry,” said the stranger, “Just nod if you came with anyone. I can get them for you.”
Chase nodded. He should tell Park that he’s here, even though he didn’t want to.
“What do they look like? A-A woman? Your girlfriend?” The stranger continued.
Chase shook his head loudly. Park wasn’t his girlfriend, she was a friend. A co-worker . They weren’t dating.
“Park,” he breathed, his voice cracking. He opened his mouth to say more, but the words got caught in his throat.
“Park? ‘That their name?”
Chase nodded, to which the other man gave a quick nod as well before rushing off and out of the bathroom.
-
“Park?” the man called, pacing the small coffee shop.
The neurologist lifted her head, trying to see where the voice was coming from. She stood up.
The man turned to Park, noticing her action in the corner of his eye. “ ‘You Park?”
Park nodded yes, which prompted the man to walk to her table.
“You’re boyfriend’s in the restroom,” He said, pointing behind himself and towards said room, “ ‘Looks like he’s having a panic attack. ‘S not good.”
Park nodded, her face falling to worry, before lightly pushing past the man and making her way to the men’s washroom. She gingerly pushed the door open, her concern of breaking the rules evident, and she quickly slid into the room before any of the staff could’ve seen her.
“Chase?” She called, keeping her words quiet, “Are you here? Some guy said you were having a panic attack.”
She saw the intensivist’s bent knees from under the stall’s raised walls, and she moved to the farthest cubicle in the room.
“Are you okay?” She asked, kneeling down and making eye contact with Chase.
Chase nodded, swallowing hard. His heart still pounded in his head, but it was easier to focus on things now. “Yeah,” He croaked, quiet.
Park wiped a tear from Chase’s eye, and the intensivist flinched at the action.
“ ‘Tell you what,” The neurologist started, “Why don’t we… get out of here, huh? We can go back to your apartment?” She offered, raising her eyebrow and smiling suggestively.
Chase smiled softly in return, eyeing Park. “Well, you do look very nice in that dress,” His smile widened slightly, his teeth showing.
-
Chase walked into work 20 minutes early, holding an unbranded disposable coffee cup. Park followed him into the room, holding a similar cup of another colour.
They sat down next to each other, and Chase mindlessly picked up a case file from the centre of the table and began looking through it.
Taub was the only other one there, and he sat with a small stack of paperwork in front of him. He twiddled his pencil in his hand.
He looked up at the other two as they entered, scanning the pair’s demeanor.
“How was your date?” He spoke after a brief pause, breaking the silence between the three.
Chase and Park shared a glance.
“How do you know about that?” Chase asked the plastic surgeon, his eyes falling to concern.
Taub grinned, unable to keep his amused smile off of his face. “You came in together, holding coffees from the same place. You’re also earlier than you usually are, and Park keeps glancing at you and smiling. So, you either went on a date or hooked up. Which one is it?”
“Damn, you sound like House,” Park laughed. “You got all that from how we walked into the room?”
Taub leaned back in his chair, prideful. “There’s a lot you can figure out by just observing people,” he commented, shrugging slightly. “So what, are you dating?”
“No,” Chase replied sharply, before he could think, “We’re just friends.”
Park gave Chase a look.
“Well, no need to get defensive,” Taub shifted in his chair, “It was a simple question.”
Chase paused, before exhaling and wiping his face. “Sorry, I just haven’t really been able to date other people after Allison… er...” he trailed off.
Taub nodded, understanding what Chase was trying to say. “Right, but this was your opportunity to start dating again. You went on a date with Park, and from the looks of it–” He nodded to the neurologist– “it went well.”
“Yeah, but…” Chase cut himself off, “Can we- Can we not talk about this at work ?”
“Right,” Taub said, with an apologetic hand gesture, “I’m sorry.”
-
Park found Chase in the cafeteria, and she sat on the laminate booth chair across from him. She greeted him by waving at him, gingerly setting a book on the table.
Chase waved back, his eyes flicking to the book. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the item with his fork.
“Oh, nothing,” Park dismissed, “Just…” she trailed off.
“Have you considered that you’re aromantic?” She asked, after a brief inhale.
Chase furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that ?”
“In short, it’s someone who doesn’t feel any romantic attraction,” Park explained.
Chase gave Park a puzzled stare, which prompted the neurologist to awkwardly continue explaining.
“Well, since you said you didn’t like dates, but you still, you know…” Park continued.
“You know what, this was- this was dumb. Sorry for taking your time,” She exhaled, standing up and leaving a very confused Chase sitting with a coffee and a salad at an otherwise empty booth.
-
Chase tossed and turned in his bed. He couldn’t sleep, and he didn’t know why.
He lay on his side with his knees pressed to his chest, wrapping the sides of his pillow around his head.
Once that position had inevitably grown uncomfortable, he shifted to lie on his back with his hand draped over his torso. He huffed inwardly, irritated at the situation.
His mind started to wander as he stared at the ceiling, and the dark stars that began to cloud his vision were his only reminder to blink.
The memory of his and Park’s date crept back into his mind, which dampened his mood further.
Nothing inherently bad happened, he mused, it was just overcrowded. Maybe if he tried again– perhaps in a different location– it would work out?
His brain shut down the idea as soon as it sprouted in his mind. He wasn’t attracted to Park like that , he realised, and he didn’t want to go on another date.
Then he was reminded of what Park said that day at lunch.
He still didn’t know what being aromantic was– or what it meant, really– but as he thought about it, he figured he should probably find out. Park was a smart person, after all, and if her hunch was accurate, it could supply Chase with an answer.
He stepped out of his bed and walked over to his computer, booting it up and waiting for the monitor to turn on.
He squinted his eyes once it did, the bright light startling compared to the dark environment which he’d shrouded himself in for the past 4 hours.
He opened his search engine, typing the word ‘aromantic’ into the search bar. He waited for his search to process, and after it did, a few different things popped up.
The first thing that came up was a definition.
“ A·ro·man·tic
noun
A person who experiences little to no romantic attraction to anyone. ”
His eyes flicked over the words. They made sense to him, but he also had so many more questions.
How do I find out if this is me?
Does this change over time, or would someone be aromantic from when they’re born?
I was attracted to Allison, does that mean I’m not aromantic?
He continued to search up his questions, and he found websites and informational blogs and resources to read about what it feels like, (Actually, it doesn’t feel like anything, he found out, one just isn’t romantically attracted to people.)
He also found out that aromanticism is part of the LGBTQ community, and that it’s a spectrum which can fluctuate over time. There was also a flag for it, and he realised he could choose an outfit with its colours and express that he was aromantic!
Before he knew it, it had been well over a few hours and he would have to be at the hospital soon.
Noticing the time, he quickly shut off his computer and rushed to get ready for work.
-
“You slept well, I take it?” Adams asked Chase with a sarcastic smile.
Chase nodded while stifling a yawn. “I was doing research and lost track of time.”
“Yeah?” Adams replied, “On what?”
The intensivist gave the other doctor a look, before returning to his coffee.
“I like your outfit,” Park started, gaining Chase’s attention. “Was it… intentional?”
Chase sported a leaf-green woollen sweater with a small grey ascot tied around his neck. He also wore a black cardigan and a pair of denim-blue ripped jeans.
He looked down at his outfit instinctively, briefly forgetting what he was wearing. He looked back at Park, grinning softly.
He nodded yes. “You were right.”