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It started, as most terrible things do, at 3:45 am on a particularly humid night in the Outer Ring. The majority of the Sons of Calydon had retreated (sensibly) to their respective abodes for the night, save for Burnice, who was snoring softly, curled up next to Belle on the siblings’ Outer Ring room floor. The moonlight streamed in from the room’s open window, spilling onto the sad, empty mugs once full of Nitro fuel. Wise glanced at the dustlight filtered from the windowpane and thought this moment almost serene, if not for his drunk sister pestering the poor undefeated champion of Calydon.
“You still haven't answered my question from earlier, Lighter,” Belle slurred, jabbing her finger at the man sitting across from her. “Do you have a crush on someone?”
Lighter put his hands up in mock defeat. “Manager —”
“See!” Belle shot up and pointed, accusatory, at Lighter. “Wise, he's doing it again! He’s doing that thing where he chuckles all hearty and puts his hands up and then expertly deflects my question!” Her outburst made Burnice snort in her sleep and curl up tighter around Belle’s thigh.
A sober and, well, wiser Wise would have halted his sister’s nosy ploy to dig into someone else’s love life the moment he caught wind of it, or at least silently watch it unfold without helping. However, an inebriated, sleep-deprived Wise was another matter.
“So who is it?” Wise pressed, “I’m curious.”
The sudden all-out attack clearly flustered the man in question. Lighter blinked, then laughed disarmingly. “I’ve told you already, there’s nothing to tell.”
“That is the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” Belle declared, frowning. “You’re never this evasive unless there’s a girl involved. Or a boy. Or a person. Whatever. A crush. C’mon, at least tell us what this mystery person’s like.”
“...Alright,” Lighter relented at last, to a soft whoop from Belle. “But I’m not naming names.”
Lighter cleared his throat, face flushed. From the alcohol or from embarrassment, Wise didn’t know. “Okay. Um. They’re…kind. Not in a way that’s loud or showy, but they, y’know, notice things. They do things for people without making a big deal out of it.”
Wise tilted his head, thoughtful. “Go on.”
Lighter continued, loosening up now that he’d started, “They’re also…steady. You can lean on them during hard times, and they never panic. They listen more than they speak.”
Wise hummed, poking his sister in the rib. “This one listens. She just interrupts after.”
Belle gasped, indignant, and poked Wise back, mindful of the sleeping Burnice in her lap. “Rude! I just have important opinions to share, that's all!”
The other man continued, “They’re loyal. If they care about you, they care all the way. They’re no half-ass. When they speak, people listen, because whatever they say matters. To me anyway.”
Wise nodded, mentally ticking off boxes. “Belle has a way of cutting through noise.”
Belle opened her mouth to defend herself before shutting it, confused. “Am I being praised or roasted?
“Well,” Belle shrugged it off and stretched, “That all sounds very flattering and mysterious, but you’re really not giving us a name?”
Lighter stared at his empty mug of Nitro fuel. “Some things are…better left unsaid, Manager.”
Wise nodded, satisfied. He’d gotten enough information to come to a conclusion, anyway. “Fair enough.”
Belle whipped her head around to glare at her brother in mock betrayal. “Are you really going to accept that?”
Lighter let out a quiet sigh of relief that Wise barely picked up and, in the blink of an eye, slipped his charming smile back on. “See? Deputy Manager gets me.”
Wise smiled back, warm. “I do.”
Lighter promptly turned his head around and coughed into his fist.
The conclusion Wise came to, as he lay awake in the Outer Ring heat at 4 am, cicadas chirping in the background, was simple: Lighter liked Belle.
It made perfect sense. Wise stared at the chipped wooden ceiling, replaying the conversation from two hours ago in his mind. Belle ticked all of Lighter’s boxes, didn’t she? Lighter was charming. Belle was, and Wise would never say this to her face, charming. Belle was Lighter’s type, and Wise was sure that Lighter would be anyone’s type. Just look at him.
Satisfied with his deduction, the Deputy Manager closed his eyes.
The opportunity to play wingman presented itself atop a silver platter one fine Wednesday morning, a couple of days after their eventful sleepover in the Outer Ring. Belle had left earlier to deal with a pressing matter at Scott Outpost, leaving Wise alone to tend the shop. Business was slow, as it tended to be on Wednesday mornings, so Wise decided to pick up his phone and set his plan into motion.
Wise: I thought about what you said the other night.
The reply bubble appeared, disappeared, and appeared again.
Lighter: Oh?
Wise: About your mystery crush’s qualities.
The reply came a little later this time.
Lighter: Oh. That.
Wise: You mentioned someone kind and loyal. You also mentioned reliability, but I suspect that part was aspirational. I’ve read that people often idealise traits they want to have.
Lighter: …Is that so?
Wise: Yes.
Lighter: So what are you saying?
Wise leaned against the counter, completely at ease.
Wise: Well, I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee. No pressure.
Several seconds passed.
Lighter: Coffee.
Wise: Tomorrow morning? I was thinking Coff Cafe’s at Lumina Square. I wouldn’t want you to come all the way to Sixth Street just for coffee.
A long pause, long enough for Wise to think that Lighter’d gone offline or get gobbled up by a hollow. Then,
Lighter: So…just coffee?
Wise: To start. You can see how it goes.
Lighter: Yeah. Sure. Cool. Awesome. Tomorrow morning sounds great.
Wise nodded to himself proudly, mentally filing Operation: LighterBelle away as handled.
Wise: Great! I’ll tell my sister.
The typing bubble appeared instantly, just as Wise set his phone face down on the counter in contempt.
Lighter: Wait. What?
Wise found said sister burritoed in blankets on the staff room couch later that evening, their TV casting a soft light across her. Something glossy and pastel played on the screen; two characters wrapped up in an embrace in the pouring rain.
Wise paused in the doorway. “Is this what I think this is?”
Belle didn’t look away. “They’re fake dating,” she replied, “But they are so obviously in love.”
He sat beside her, sparing the screen a glance. “Don’t you usually watch horror flicks?”
“I wanted to expand my horizons.” Belle shrugged. “Besides, this one’s emotional horror. She’s got cancer.”
Wise chose not to unpack his sister's horrible taste in films and instead cleared his throat. “I spoke to Lighter.”
That caught her attention; Belle slammed down on the pause button and whirled around to face Wise. “Really?”
“I think it would be fun if you and he went for coffee together,” Wise continued, “Tomorrow morning.”
Belle’s smile drooped ever so slightly. “...Lighter. And…me?”
“Yes. Tomorrow morning at Lumina Square.”
She furrowed her brow and squinted at Wise. “You think,” She began slowly, “That Lighter wants to go out on a date with me.”
Now it was Wise’s turn to frown. “Yes? When he was talking about his mystery crush, he described you to a T.” Belle’s lips started to quiver, and Wise mentally backpeddled. “Wait. That’s your I ’m-trying-so-hard-not-to-laugh face. Did I say something stupid?”
Belle patted his shoulder and giggled. Wise noted again, worriedly, that Belle’s giggle sounded a lot like her I’m-planning-something-nefarious-but-I’m-not-telling-you giggle. “For someone named Wise, you’re not very smart, huh? Alright, I’ll go out with Lighter tomorrow, but don’t get your hopes up. Coffee isn’t a marriage proposal.”
Wise smiled. “That’s sensible.”
Belle smirked and unpaused the TV. The siblings watched as the couple on screen finally kissed. “You’d hate these shows.”
“I already do.”
Wise told himself that he was simply being observant. That was all.
The following morning arrived, sunny and unremarkable, the kind of day that suggested nothing consequential would happen. Wise sat at his desk with his coffee and one of his many books lying across his lap, reading the same paragraph for the third time without processing any of it, when Belle knocked on his door.
She looked different, Wise thought as he looked up, perfectly apathetic. She’d traded her hoodie in for a sea-green sweater that complemented her eyes, and her short hair was swept up into two messy pigtails at the back of her head. Belle flashed him her usual grin and twirled around. “Is this okay?”
Wise nodded. “You look nice.”
Belle smiled cheerily in return. “Nice is good.” She reached for her pocket and checked her phone. “He says he’s on the road; he’ll probably take a while. The Outer Ring is pretty far from Lumina Square.”
Wise hummed noncommittally, shifting his gaze back to his book. Belle’s eyebrows furrowed.
“You sure about this?” She asked, almost soft.
“Yes,” He replied immediately and winced. Too immediately. “You have fun, Belle.”
She searched his face for a moment, then nodded. “Okay! I’ll be back soon.”
When he heard the parking lot door slam behind her, the house immediately felt wrong. Not empty, as Wise’d been alone pretty much most of the time. He was the elder brother, the one who kept the store running while Belle took charge of their proxy business. He was used to being alone. This time, the house felt…odd, like something right under his nose had been misplaced and now he couldn’t find it anymore.
Wise returned to his coffee, only to realise it was cold.
It was natural to feel unsettled, Wise reasoned with himself, as he begrudgingly made his way to the kitchenette to pour himself another cup. He had initiated this. Responsibility created investment. He would obviously be attentive to the not-a-date-but-kind-of-a-date’s outcome. That was all.
He glanced at the clock hanging almost mockingly above him on the kitchenette wall. She would be arriving at the cafe right about now.
He imagined their greeting: all bright smiles, their familiarity easing over any awkwardness the not-a-date-but-kind-of-a-date might bring. Lighter’s charm would do the rest. It always did.
A strange tightness wormed its way into his chest.
It was concern, Wise decided, making his way back to his room, that was making him feel this way. A brother’s protective instinct, if you will. He’d spent years after the fall of the old Capitol looking after Belle, and relinquishing that role to Lighter, even temporarily, would naturally make him feel uncomfortable.
Yes. That was all. He picked up his book again, read two lines, and promptly set it down.
Wise wondered, briefly, if Lighter would notice Belle’s sweater. If he’d say something, and if she’d giggle, not in the evil way she had yesterday, but a softer, shyer giggle. If they’d do something akin to the snippet of that stupid movie Belle was watching yesterday. Wise’s brows furrowed at the thought.
He stood up, slotted the book back into its rightful place on the bookshelf, and checked his phone, because that was certainly a habit he had before this morning. No messages. Good.
He nodded to himself, satisfied with his reasoning, and proceeded to head downstairs and open up the shop.
And if he just so happened to glance at the clock one too many times, that was simply because he was Wise, the responsible elder brother who had a good sense of time.
That was all.
Belle returned to Random Play approximately an hour and forty-five minutes later, with a paper cup in her hand and a shit-eating grin on her face.
“It was fine,” she managed to make out, desperately trying to smooth her expression.
“Fine,” Wise echoed. ‘Fine’ was not worth the agony he had experienced for one hour and forty-five minutes straight. “Anything else?”
“We talked. We walked around the pier for a bit. I probably have sand in my shoes. And Lighter takes his coffee a bit too seriously.”
Wise smiled, despite it all. “Sounds like him.”
Belle made that I’m-trying-so-hard-not-to-laugh expression again, muttered some excuse, and disappeared into her room. She did not bring the date up again.
And that should have been the end of it.
That was not the end of it.
The next day, while Wise stood behind the counter, tallying returns, the bell above the door rang.
He looked up.
Lighter stood there, fingers hooked in the loops of his pants, breath slightly winded. Did he run all the way over here from the train station?
“Oh,” He said, “Hey.”
“Hello,” Wise replied, glancing instinctively towards the staff room. Empty; Belle’d likely gone out to the HIA building in Lumina square again. God knows what she’s doing over there.
“She’s not —?” Lighter began, then stopped himself. “I mean. Hi.”
“She’s out,” Wise said. “Errands. Do you want some coffee? I know you like it black, but Belle’s a psycho, and she likes it with ridiculous amounts of milk, so we’re kinda low on coffee.”
“Oh. Uh. I’m good, thanks.” The other man rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. Was it his imagination, or was Lighter…flustered?
“Do you need something, then?” Wise asked, biting back a smile.
“Yes,” Lighter said immediately. He paused and added, “No. Well, maybe?”
He wandered to the nearest shelf and pulled out a case at random. “Have you seen this?”
Wise squinted at it. “That’s a documentary about municipal recycling.”
“Ah,” Lighter laughed, embarrassed. He picked up the case right next to it. “What about this one?”
“That’s the same documentary.”
“Oh.”
Wise would have chalked this encounter up to a pop-in from his sister’s potential love interest, but the same thing happened again two days later. The bell rang, Lighter appeared like a sexy mailman, and Belle was, again, conspicuously absent.
“Funny timing,” Wise remarked, playful, as he shelved a returned case to its rightful place.
“Is it?” Lighter asked a little too quickly and covered up his eagerness with a cough. “I mean, small town, huh?”
Wise quirked an eyebrow. “You live in the Outer Ring, Lighter.”
“Right. Still.”
This time, Lighter claimed to be returning a movie.
“You didn’t rent anything,” Wise said, scrolling through the system.
“I thought I did,” Lighter replied, shrugging. “Must’ve been thinking about it.”
“You came all the way here to return a movie you thought about renting.”
“Yes.”
Wise stared at him.
“...I was nearby,” Lighter added.
“Lighter, you live in the Outer Ring. It’s in the name.”
The man in question grinned disarmingly. “I wanted to take the scenic route?”
On his third visit, Lighter arrived with a bag of loose change and an expression so confident that Wise immediately knew it was rehearsed.
“I need to break these. Burnice decided on a whim yesterday that busking was her dream job.”
“We’re not a bank,” Wise sighed, but gestured for the bag anyway.
“I know,” Lighter said as he set the bag down on the counter, “But you’re more reliable.”
Wise took how Lighter’s voice made him feel and shoved it into the will-unpack-when-I-have-time corner of his mind. At least his trauma, guilt and the Babadook would have a friend there now.
He counted carefully, hyper-aware of the other man leaning over the counter to observe him, his bangs almost brushing his shoulder.
“You don’t have to stay,” He said without looking up.
“I don’t mind.”
Wise’s heart minded. A lot, actually.
“So,” Wise said, desperately trying to keep his face from flushing at the proximity, “How are the rest of the Sons of Calydon?”
“Good. Piper’s trying to convince Pulchra to actually get a drivers licesne, though personally, I’d pick Pulchra over Piper as a driver any day.”
“Touche.”
Silence. Wise wished that Belle would just come home and usher this man out already; his heart was practically beating out of his chest.
“Belle’s still out?” Lighter asked.
Wise promptly took back his wish and finished counting the coins faster than necessary.
By the fourth visit, Wise stopped pretending to be surprised. The bell rang, and he looked up, already smiling. Catching himself, he immediately smoothed his expression.
“Browsing?” He asked, failing to keep his small smile at bay.
“Yeah,” Lighter said. “Looking for something slower and comforting. Life in the Outer Ring doesn’t exactly offer that.”
Wise considered this for a moment and, surprising himself, stepped out from behind the counter. “I have a suggestion.”
“Oh?” Lighter’s smile turned curious. “I didn’t know you took recommendations.”
“I don’t,” Wise replied. After a pause, he added, “Usually.”
He led him past the newer releases to a quieter corner at the back of the store. The films here were more worn than the rest, their cases tinged a yellowish hue and muted with age.
“This section doesn’t get much traffic,” Wise said, gesturing in the direction of the displays, “But it’s better in my opinion.”
Lighter hummed in response. “You say that very confidently.”
Wise hovered over a display and, after a minute of consideration, pulled out a case. “This one’s slow,” He warned, “A little more than two hours. It’s mostly conversations and a lot of singing.”
Lighter whistled. “Sounds thrilling.”
“It is,” Wise said, without a hint of irony. He paused and backpeddled, “That is, if you’re into that sorta thing. Belle calls me an old man for enjoying films like this one.”
Lighter watched him with open amusement now, smiling. “And why do you like it?
Wise hesitated, wholly unprepared for the question. “Well…I like that it takes its time. I like the songs, and I like the character progression. It feels authentic.”
He slid the case into Lighter’s hands. The other man turned it over to read the back and quirked an eyebrow. “This is a romance.”
Was Wise too obvious? He mentally gives himself a hundred lashings before plastering on a nervous smile. “It is.”
“You didn’t mention that part.”
He felt his ears warm and immediately developed a newfound interest in the floor. “It’s… understated.”
Lighter laughed softly. “Of course it is.”
And there they stood, close enough that Wise could smell Lighter’s cologne (did he put that on specifically for him? And there goes another thought to the will-unpack-when-I-have-time corner of his mind.) and the warmth of him in the narrow aisle.
“Your sister mentioned that you’d reorganised the horror section,” Lighter brought up casually.
“Yes.”
“She said you alphabetised by director?”
“I did.”
“Well, she sounded impressed.”
Wise swallowed. “She likes to exaggerate.”
He could almost hear the smile in the other man’s voice. “I don’t think so.”
Lighter tucked the case under his arm. “I’ll take it.”
Wise, almost in a daze, led him back to the counter and rang him up in one smooth motion.
“Well then,” Lighter said, now holding a paper bag with a bangboo on it, “I’ll be seeing you, Deputy Manager Wise.”
“Yes,” Wise all but squeaked out, “You will.”
The bell rang as the door closed behind Lighter, and Wise slumped onto the counter. Eous waddled over from the staff room and stared, a little judgmentally, at Wise, and said in an imaginary Eous voice, “You know he’s sort of romantically involved with your sister, right?”
“You are very articulate for a Bangboo, Eous,” Wise sighed into his palms.
“Ehn-na,” Eous actually said, and proceeded to frown to the best of his capabilities.
“I don’t know what you mean, Eous. I don’t like Lighter. He’s just a friend. Who I look forward to seeing every day.”
“Ehn-na,” Eous replied thoughtfully, just as the bell jingled and Belle swung open the shop door.
“Wise, were you talking to the bangboo again?”
The first thing Wise noticed when he walked into the staff room was that the television was glowing pink. The walls were washed with a soft shade of scarlet, and the swelling music emitted from the television speakers unofficially announced that something significant was about to happen. Belle sat cross-legged on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen, a bowl of chips balanced precariously on her right knee.
“...Is this another one?” Wise asked from the doorway, unimpressed.
She waved in his general direction, not once turning to look at him. “Shh. She’s gonna get hit by a van and get amnesia.”
He obediently sat on the couch, folded his hands, and waited for the unassuming young lady to get slammed into by a pickup truck.
Belle groaned. “Called it.”
“Can I ask you something?” Wise asked, tentative.
She muted the TV immediately and turned to him, bright and attentive. “Of course!”
Wise hesitated. “It’s about…Lighter.”
Belle’s round eyes sparked. “Ohhhhhh.”
“That’s not an appropriate reaction.”
“It is exactly the appropriate reaction,” she said cheerfully, popping a triangular chip in her mouth. “Ask away, brother.”
Wise cleared his throat and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. “I think you and he might be…romantically involved.”
He watched as Belle blinked and her head nearly split in half from the shit-eating grin that spread across her face. “Why do you think that?”
Wise frowned. “You went on a date.”
“Coffee,” she clarified lightly.
“You speak fondly of him.”
“He’s my agent! I have to hang out with him to increase his trust rank.”
What? Wise didn’t have time to decode that. “He comes to the store frequently.”
She nodded. “True.”
“And,” he added, voice tightening despite himself, “I don’t think he would do that unless there were feelings involved.”
Belle tilted her head, studying her brother almost pitifully. “Okay,” she said finally, “Let’s pretend that’s true.”
Wise frowned. “Pretend?”
“Just go with me.” She sat up, and the bowl of chips surprisingly did not fall. “Say he is my boyfriend. Why does that bother you?”
Wise bit his cheek. “It doesn’t.”
Belle quirked an eyebrow. “Try again. But really picture it this time.”
Wise had the day of their date, and remembered the twisted feeling in his gut when he imagined Lighter and his sister kissing in the rain. His silence was answer enough.
Belle smiled, satisfied. “Interesting.”
At Wise’s glare, she leaned back against the couch, shrugging. (Seriously, how has the bowl not fallen yet?) “Look, I’m not saying I am or amn’t involved with him. What I’m saying is this.”
She gestured vaguely between him and the television. “In every single one of these dumb shows, the problem is not that people don’t feel things; it’s that they refuse to act. You can only slow burn for so long, Wise.
“So,” she continued, “instead of guessing what he feels and analysing behaviours and Random Play visits…Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”
Wise baulked. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?”
Belle shrugged. “You’re both adults. It’ll be slightly awkward for, like, a week. But if he does…?”
On the TV, rain began to fall dramatically outside the protagonist’s hospital window. Belle bumped her shoulder into Wise’s and smiled up at him reassuringly. “Just saying. You could keep guessing forever, or you could find out.”
She unmuted the TV, and Wise let the sound of rainwater coming from the tinny speakers drown out the pounding of his heart.
Wise: Hey, Lighter
Wise: Wanna grab coffee tomorrow morning?
“Deputy Manager,” Lighter started, and immediately paused as he scanned the other man up and down. “You look…different.”
Wise flushed under the scratchy wool collar of his sweater. Damn it. How did he allow Belle to coerce him into changing? Lighter, on the other hand, looked as gorgeous as always: clad in leather from head to toe, with perfectly tousled hair and other poetic descriptions. Wise was too nervous to think of any right now.
Wise sat across from Lighter and warmed his hands on the espresso in front of him, grateful that Lighter had arrived earlier to order for him. He didn’t know if he could even muster up the courage to speak.
“Cat got your tongue, Deputy Manager?” Lighter joked, clearly trying to ease the tension as he tilted his head to look at Wise. “Are you —”
“Ihaveacrushonyou,” said the tongue-tied Wise.
Oh, he’d done it now. Wise, manager of Random Play, half of the legendary Proxy Phaeton, had just slipped up and confessed to his crush way before he was ever mentally ready to.
Everything else came tumbling out like a waterfall. “I tried to set you up with Belle because I thought she was the person you had a crush on, and instead ended up getting insanely jealous of her and I felt so guilty and then I talked to Eous and realised that I —”
“Wait.” Wise looked up, mid-flustered ramble, at Lighter. “You were jealous of my mystery crush?”
Wise wilted. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t —”
“You realise that you’d just be jealous of yourself, right?”
Wait, what?
“Wait, what?” Wise said, this time aloud. The man across from him is laughing into his fist, and wow, how has Wise never noticed how attractive he was, laughing? It took all of Wise’s willpower not to reach across the table and pull him into a kiss. Could he do that now? What did Lighter just say?
“For the record,” Lighter chuckles, “I like you too, Wise.”
If Belle were here right now, Wise thought as Lighter leaned in, she would definitely be making fun of how lamely I’d just confessed.
Of course, none of that mattered right now.