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“The glasses.” He blinks slowly, his eyes fitfully squint while he observes his surroundings. He doesn’t even try to match their steps. “You wear it tonight. How unusual.”
“Does it look weird on my face?” Phainon winces straightaway. He stops just to turn around to Mydei, his hand holding a bag of potato chips. Considering its size: more or less 600 calories. And what time is it, right now? Mydei tuts, preventing himself from conquering the snack harshly from Phainon. Savory chips at eleven p.m. Phainon better have his own clever reasons for this mindless decision.
“Yeah,” Mydei chooses to answer him lightly. Flash occasionally from his eyes’ peripheral vision as they continue walking: chocolate bars and cookies, colorful bags of candies, all flavors of his favorite chips seem stretching their hands to reach him. “You never wear glasses when you’re with me.”
“Is that so?”
Phainon’s laugh travels instantly to every corner of the convenience store. When Phainon finally squats in front of the snack’s racks, Mydei follows, his hand resting on his knee. Ignoring the sing-sang of his tired joints, he subsequently adjusts his backpack strap.
“No particular reason, unfortunately,” Phainon chuckles as he randomly picks a bag of chocolate candies. “It’s dangerous to drive at midnight when your vision is a bit blurry.”
Well? No one asks you to pick me up at the venue. Mydei wants to retort immediately but he ends up swallowing his venomous responses. Too tired to argue further. His brain still feels mushy—he remembers that the last time he slept properly was forty hours ago.
Tomorrow he has one rehearsal left, and the day after that: the concert itself. Lately, it feels like he’s living his cursed college life again. Lack of sleep almost everyday. Chasing deadline after deadline, although now his deadline is also his only way to reach his contentment. He squints when he feels the headache threatening again, this time in the back of his head.
Ah. Why did they end up in this place, acting like highschoolers dawdling fatuously at the snacks’ aisle? He’s pretty sure Phainon has his own packed schedules—an actor on the peak of his career shouldn't be hanging around carelessly here, as if tomorrow will be the end of the world and Mydei ends up stuck helping this bastard to tick his bucket lists one by one…
“We won’t do anything in your apartment,” Mydei reminds him. “I’ll sleep like a log once I touch your bed. There’s another rehearsal at ten a.m.”
“I know, I know. We have to be ready at nine,” Phainon giggles, and their shoulders touch. Mydei can see Phainon's eyes twinkling while he slips another snack into his grocery basket. “Can’t wait to do nothing in my apartment with you.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“What? Of course not!” This time, Phainon’s laughter is held back behind his lips. He huffs afterward, his eyes crinkle at the edge. “I just… I just think it’s not that bad. Doing nothing.”
Before Mydei counters, Phainon goes on, his hand moving to support his chin leisurely. “For us—well, for me, it actually feels like a dream, you know. Doing nothing. Pretending you’re just a boring adult with mundane life. Nothing else will ruin your future unless one day you break your leg, or accidentally burn your food on the stove.”
It’s Mydei's turn to cackle softly. “And this is your first attempt to do nothing? Wandering aimlessly in a small convenience store, buying snacks that will absolutely ruin your diet?”
Phainon’s smile loosening, his hands now resting over his bent knees.
“I don’t know. I just think it’s quite fun to live your life like a movie with no specific plot. Like... a slice of life movie? When nothing really happens to the protagonists, and the sole purpose of the entire movie is only about their self-discoveries.”
He peers slowly at him. “It’s kind of nice, isn’t it? Done your job at approximately five p.m. Stop by the supermarket on your way home, but apparently you've run out of ideas for your dinner, so you grab anything in racks that ignite your interest. Then you walk home alone. Fresh scallions peek from your grocery bag, while you ruminate about death and sorrow and what to eat for breakfast."
Mydei hums. “And one day, on a particular evening after you worked overtime, you’re sitting in front of the snacks’ aisle, contemplating on why and how your entire life is so messed up.”
“But eventually, you find yourself concluding, 'aah, maybe life is not that messed up when you can stare at these colorful, delicious snacks together with your beautiful lover'.”
Unable to hold back his laughter anymore, Mydei sneers. “Lover, huh.”
But his eyes stare blankly, darken when he sees the glittering font printed on the bag of candies in front of them.
Outside, the city pulsates mutedly, although here Mydei can easily hear the quiet humming of the store’s air conditioner. The sound of cats fighting over food mingles with the faint roar of vehicles. Tugging them one step closer into the bleak future, the hands of time on his analog watch slowly move—and for some reason, he suddenly thinks about his career and his achievements. How barren of his inspirations recently. How there are too many things in his life that are bound to be temporary: crowds chanting the lyrics of his songs; a peaceful, bright convenience store at midnight; the man with unruly hair and sentimental smile, who is now squatting ridiculously next to him...
What do you mean by lover? Are you drunk? All this time, am I not making myself clear, that I just need your body and warmth to keep living and making music? Mydei tightens his lips instead. He then grabs one pack of chocolate cookies and shoves it into the basket, almost forcefully.
“Does it still count as a slice of life movie with no substantial plot,” swiftly, Mydeimos breaks their silence with his low voice, trying to ignore the building numbness in his legs, “if the said lover suddenly wants to elope with you, asks you to run away together to a small, distant town where no one knows both of your existences?”
He narrows his eyes. Somehow his mind chooses to travel elsewhere, to the smell of clean linen on Phainon's bed, a ray of autumn sunlight piercing through the thin curtains in his room. Phainon’s hand on his back. His raspy voice is muffled into the pillow, yet easily reaches the depth of his threadbare heart. Once more Mydei reminds himself that he doesn’t really need all of this: all the bright places and people that are bound to be temporary—
When Mydei finally turns his head to his side, he finds Phainon rendered speechless. His mouth opens and closes like a goldfish; his glasses somehow slipping down his nose. Why are you blushing like a highschooler, haikas? Mydei restrains his smile, as Phainon tries to answer falteringly.
“Elope—what do you mean—”
“I’m just responding to your dreamy talkfest.”
“But you…”
When Mydei reaches him just to mess with his already disheveled hair, Phainon ends up constraining his mouth. His glasses feels cold on his skin. Mydei blows out his breath loudly before he finally leans in, his other hand then sternly cups Phainon’s reddening cheek. Brings him an inch closer.
Now he can taste salt in Phainon mouth. It’s rather anticlimax: that their kiss starts pretty awkwardly, with Phainon’s nose bumps with his, and his own breath keeps stammering with no particular reason. But every time Phainon retreats from his lips, as if he’s suddenly embarrassed with the fact that they’re doing this in public, Mydei just deepens their kiss. His fingers on Phainon’s nape, savouring all the familiarity that is now within his reach: vague traces of mint candy on Phainon's teeth, his gentle perfume begins to make him drowsy. It's getting harder to conceal his smile when he feels Phainon’s hand finally reaching his waist. Truly disappointing of him.
His moans slip softly from his mouth when Phainon holds him tighter. He doesn’t back off even when he’s out of breath; he purposely ignores the still-throbbing headache in the back of his head. Does it even matter anymore, when he himself doesn’t mind dying slowly in this bright convenience store, where everything he wants is within his grasp?
Nevertheless, Mydei closes his eyes as he pulls away. His hand still touches Phainon’s jaw, now travelling lazily to neaten Phainon’s untamed snowy hair whilst he murmurs between breaths.
“Let’s go home.” He plants another quick kiss on the corner of Phainon’s lips before he subsequently stands. “If you want to fuck me tonight, you should doing it with your glasses on.”
Mydei laughs heartily when he sees Phainon blushes once again.