i'll spender forever wondering if you knew i was enchanted to meet you
She’s in a daze as she walks home after getting off the subway. Around her, the shops selling food and trinkets have been shut down. It was getting colder, only the beginning of October, and she hadn’t brought a sweater with her. The heat radiating from her cheeks was more than enough to get her home feeling warm.
Her heart was thumping so loud she could hear it. Each beat, He Xuan, beat, He Xuan, beat, He Xuan, He Xuan, He Xuan, you need to see her again. It had taken every bit of strength she had to not be a total weirdo and go running after the woman on the street. To say what exactly, she still didn’t know.
Most of the time, she fumbled over her words in excitement, speaking too loudly. It was as if once she started, it wouldn’t end until she got the distinct feeling from the other party that the conversation was going nowhere. This is why when she reaches her building, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
Act normal. Don’t tell him anything. She often felt bad for feeling she was hiding something from her brother when she didn’t tell him information about her life, but Wudu made it clear he didn’t have any interest in listening to frivolous stories. “A waste of time,” he scolded her. Her smile dropped. “You could be studying. Or networking. Or organizing more events for your little club. I don’t have the energy to hear you babble in my ear as I’m getting ready to go out to Le Coucou with my coworker, we need to scout out restaurants for our potential clients.”
She swallows her nerves down into the pit of her stomach and heads up the familiar staircase, putting her key in the lock, and stepping into the apartment she calls home. It was dim within the inside so her eyes didn’t need to adjust too much. She hears the T.V. on at a low volume, some news channel, an indicator her brother was home. He was the only person she knew with a stick shoved so far up his ass that he actually liked the news.
Well, perhaps her father as well.
“I’m home!” she yells out as usual, sitting down to take off her shoes and put them on the rack next to the door. She swings around the corner to peek at her brother. Sure enough, he’s sitting on the couch with his laptop on the table in front of him. He always sat properly, like they had been taught to as kids by tutors their parents paid so that they sat elegantly, and knew how to eat a meal with grace with utensils so expensive that it could probably pay ⅓ of the rent of the average studio apartment in the city.
As usual, Qingxuan had done every single thing possible to go against this. Her parents sent her disapproving looks, and though her brother did as well, he did stick up for her in the only way he ever knew how to: claiming she is “just a kid, and doesn’t know any better.” These words had always stuck with her, and she knew this was an act of love her brother had given her, even if he was emotionally constipated.
He looks up, frowning. “You’re too loud,” he scolds. “Some day, when you are on your own, all your neighbors will despise you for that habit.”
“Impossible!” she cries, throwing her hands up in the air. “I will have you know, ge, that I have always won over every single person I met, even if they disliked me in the beginning. Like Ling Wen and Pei Ming! Those two really are harsh, but they also now love me. The other day, Pei Ming and I accidentally met at Trader Joe’s! He was the one who bought all the food I restocked. Make sure to thank him, by the way.” Even though I can’t stand that man.
“My friends go along with you because they know you’re my sister,” Wudu replied wryly. “And they know how irritating you get if you don’t get your way.”
“Oh, brother dearest, you wound me so!” She clasps a hand over her heart. “As a matter of fact, this hurts so bad, I need you to write to Columbia and ask them to posthumously add my name to the awards because I never got the chance to apply after you killed me.”
Wudu leans back on the couch, his gaze as sharp as an eagle’s. “How is that going? Have you been working hard enough to be considered for the award?”
She drops her hands, the lighting which had helped when she came home making this feel more serious. Admittedly, she got nervous around her brother sometimes. His words dictated her mood whenever he interjected himself into her surroundings or academic life. Sometimes even her personal life as well. “Yes, I’ve been working hard. I’m at the top of my class, I can show you the grades if that is what is needed.”
“I’m not your parent, Qingxuan. I’m your brother. I know you, and tell you how to study. Your major might not be considered strong, but you need to take this seriously. If you mess up, I’m gonna be upset when you cry.” His voice was flat, devoid of any affection. Oh, how I crave it. Any affection is enough to know I’m doing okay.
“It is hard,” she protests. She knows this argument would mean nothing to her brother, but it makes her blood boil. “You don’t understand--”
“You’re right. I don’t understand. And to be quite frank, I don’t care to.”
She stills, any words that wanted to come out of her drying in her mouth. It left a bitter taste on her tongue. “I know you don’t.”
Silence fills the room, the only thing moving being the flickering of the colors from the television. She looks at the floor, wanting to sink down, knowing he is analyzing her. He had a way of making her feel even smaller when spoken down to, and like she could take on the world when he praised her. There was hardly any neutral ground between them.
This is how it’s always been.
“I need to work,” she says. “Good night.”
She begins to walk to her room, content to know she will be able to lay down before having to wake up to finish homework and preparations for Friday.
“Qingxuan.” She stops in her tracks. She cast a glance over her shoulder and met her brother’s eyes. They were filled with something soft, and something strange. The look was puzzling, to say the least, and scratched something odd into the back of her head she was not sure she liked. He was always someone who remained silent about his intentions until it was time to speak of them. “You need to do well. I know you can. I know you will.”
She forces a smile. “Thanks, ge. Get some rest, okay? Love you.”
He echoes the sentiment, and gets back to typing furiously on his laptop. It probably has to deal with a project or something. She had no clue what her brother was ever doing at any given moment, just knew he was a top worker on Wall Street despite being so young, and that he stubbornly focused on his work in an almost neurotic way.
She was proud of him. She hopes one day he will be proud of her in the same way.
Despite wanting to distinguish herself by obtaining an Excellence award, there was also the unmistakable hunger to prove herself to her brother. Her parents. Their whole family. Her friends. The entire world. Any scrap of a compliment that was thrown her way was eaten up as if she would never taste food again.
There was, of course, the desire to win an award to appease herself as well. She knew she was a hard worker, even with how loud or dramatic she was. This was something she wanted to cease, to feel the paper on her fingers, to be filled with pride as everyone who had been there with her since her first year of college congratulated her. She would finally be someone, not just a shadow of her brother’s legacy.
She closes the door to her room behind her and slings her bag off her shoulders, placing it on the ground near the foot of her bed and falling back on the mattress. She stares up at the ceiling, the only lights being the stars stuck to her ceiling which reflected off the small mirrorball she had hanging from the glass frame of the overhead light in the room. She could hear the distant noise of the city outside her home, and closed her eyes.
For a moment, she imagines living a life where there was nothing to live up to, and nothing to hide about herself. A world where she didn’t have to plead for kind words from her brother, or support from her parents, or even the knowledge that she is too much for her friends sometimes. A world where she could appear to the people in the upper class circle she had grown up in just as herself, boisterous and lively and bright. A world where she could pull a woman into her arms and kiss her, regardless of anyone in the room. Where not a single person in her family would be disgusted, and where she remained untouched by impossible standards. A world where she flows with the wind, weightless and changing.
Her thoughts go back to He Xuan. Her hands slap onto her cheeks out of habit as she thinks of her. The woman brought so many thoughts to her mind, and none at all at the same time. She had become flushed and nervous in front of women before, but this was a new level.
Maybe if you hadn’t been stupid, you could have gotten her number.
She remembers the curve of the body. Sharp facial features, cut from stone lovingly chiseled out. A face that hardly flickered to any other expression other than annoyance. Eyes accentuated by the quick flick of winged eyeliner. Perfect skin, pale as the moon that followed down her long, slender throat.
Qingxuan brings her hands up to cover her eyes as she thinks about how pretty He Xuan was when she shows even a slight smile. One day, I’m gonna make her truly smile, and truly laugh. I just need to find her again.
The throat trailing down to show barely-visible collarbones, which she knows she would do awful things just to catch a glimpse of them to drool over and store in her memory. A full chest, and thin waist that, if she thinks about it, might even show that she doesn’t eat enough. She frowns at the thought, suddenly glad she gave up the donuts. Maybe that’ll fatten her up, even if just for an hour.
And then, and then, and then, she recalls He Xuan’s words.
“Maybe, I have a sudden fondness for sweet things.”
Realizing how fucked she is over one interaction, seriously, get a hold of yourself, she rolls over and promptly screams into her pillow.
Her dark, brooding look. The way she could make any man feel small. The way she made Qingxuan feel small, but in the most delightful way, like she could shove Qingxuan around like she weighs nothing, and oh dear, those long, long fingers and broad palms and --
Wudu is right. Her neighbors really will hate her one day.
--
She yawns as she makes her way across campus, having just finished a history lesson. Really, men had to always be in a pissing contest regardless of the era.
It was interesting, though, the idea that men who are viewed as gods walked along this very earth. Maybe, if she was a goddess, it would be a period of peace on Earth, and she would be able to handle situations lightly instead of being a complete brute.
She heads towards the library, where she was meeting her other club members to discuss the plans for the event happening tomorrow. She passes by the other students, going into one of the study rooms that the group had blocked off each week. It was truly a miracle that the library allowed them to have their own space when other students are pushing each other over in order to study for the midterms that were in a week.
She enters, the door slamming against the wall. Tian Sheng practically jumps out of his seat, and she apologizes in an “inside voice.” She was a loud, flamboyant person, excitable and easily distracted, but she also knew when some moments required silence or when things needed to be thought about before taking action. Being loud in the library was generally frowned upon, though once in freshman year she was so stressed out when her coffee poured all over her new laptop she began cackling and wailing at the same time. A security officer had to make her pack up her belongings as she wept and was guided out of the library.
Since that moment, she has put more effort into being quiet in this space. Thankfully, being able to be in a sound-proof room was a great thing for her and everyone else.
Ban Yue greeted her softly, Pei Xiu waving from the seat next to her as he balanced on two legs of the wooden chair (Qingxuan thinks it would be funny for someone to knock him over). Tian Sheng grins at her, and he’s always been someone who matches her energy, so she has a certain fondness of him. The club was very small, and covered a lot of work. Thankfully, each person was determined to try to leave their mark on the campus, so it was large in other ways despite its actual size.
“So,” she says as she sits down. “The dance tomorrow night, let’s discuss!”
“The entrance fee is how much again?” Tian Sheng’s brow furrows.
“Eight dollars,” supplies Ban Yue.
“I already put up the final poster you worked on, Qingxuan. Put it right outside John Jay Cafeteria.”
“Dining hall,” corrects Ban Yue, voice remaining soft and direct.
“Okay, the John Jay Dining Hall.”
“How did it go?!” She knows better than to get Tian Sheng hot-headed. His anger went as quickly as it came, but things needed to be finalized today.
“It went great. For all of an hour and a half.”
“Huh?!”
“Well, it’s October, so it’s windy outside, and I went in to eat after I put it up and it had already tumbled away when I came back out. I tried to find it, but couldn’t. The tape was still kinda there, but not the poster.”
This was a perfect time to tap her pen against her cheek, imagining it was a fan, eyes closing. Take a deep breath! It’s all gonna be okay. “So, you didn’t secure it enough?” She tries to not yell out of habit. Any time in which her hard work was pushed to the side, she tended to get flushed with anger.
Except with your own brother, her mind supplies her.
Shut up, she answers.
“Hey! Don’t blame me! Blame the fucking air!”
“The air,” repeats Pei Xui flatly.
“Yes!” Sheng’s own voice is rising, indignant and flustered. “I swear to God, I taped it down really well. If it makes you feel any better, Qingxuan, a lot of posters got blown away. I saw the Engineering Club’s stupid invitation fly off. Which, as it should to be honest, they’re a bunch of fucking pricks.”
Qingxuan sighs, slamming her head against the table. Ban Yue leans over and places her hand on her back, softly rubbing her fingers in circles. Qingxuan swears Ban Yue had to be a witch in some past life. “Hey, Qingxuan, don’t get upset. It’s all gonna be okay. We attracted a lot of attention already. The Instagram post got over 400 likes, and a lot of people came on the day which you waived the fee if they committed to doing the survey at the end. I’m sure there’s gonna be a big turnout.”
“Thanks, Yue,” she mumbles, raising her head up. She knows she must have red marks, so she massages her face. “Okay, guys. Let’s go over. We’re all gonna arrive at Lerner Hall at 5 P.M., on the dot. This is very important, because even I am going to be there even earlier than that. I will be timing you all like this is your final exam. Absolutely no cheating, and please, keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times.” The members of the club all shake their heads, but they’re still smiling. “Anyways, this is to say, this is one of our last events for this semester. We have to make sure this goes as smoothly as possible. Pei Xui, you have the app and card reader we’re gonna be using, right?” When he nods, she turns to Ban Yue. “And you want to help guide people in, correct? And make sure the speech is prepared for?” Ban Yue agrees softly, and finally, she turns to Tian Sheng. “And you are gonna help set up the chairs, right? We don’t need a ton, but a good amount. The school already has some set up, we’re just adding some. Did you get the email with the layout of where the chairs go?”
“Of course I did,” he puffs out his chest. “I’ll be setting up those chairs so damn good, they’ll want to hire me.”
Everyone snickered at that.
“Okay, now let’s get into the specifics…”
--
Somehow, she manages to be on time to work yet again. She prays that because Xie Lian is working, he will (politely) ask Zhu An to be the one to help with closing tonight, allowing her to leave even a bit earlier than normal in order to prepare for her event the next night. Zhu An practically worships the ground Xie Lian works on, so it shouldn’t be too hard to urge him.
She waves at all customers and her coworkers. Feng Xin welcomes her, and she takes note that he’s in the front today. Mu Qing will definitely be coming in tonight. She wiggles her eyebrows innocently, but Feng Xin instantly understands what it means and flips her off. Laughing, she goes into the back to clock in, to see Little Yang in the back grabbing onto Xie Lian, screaming. She doesn’t even catch the actual words Little Yang is saying because she’s babbling.
And people think I talk fast. Just as she opens her mouth to ask what was going on, a phone is shoved so close to her that it hits her nose. Qingxuan recoils, but grips her coworker’s wrist, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever the hell was going on.
Everything you need to know about the purchase of the iconic 991 Fifth Avenue Gilded-Age mansion. Why it was sold, and who will be residing inside.
Okay, this is admittedly something almost anyone who cared about historic homes within the entire country would want to know. She scrolls down the article. Blah, blah, blah, this person owned it, and then this person, and then the American Irish Historical Society, and now some man named “Hua Cheng.” She continues scrolling down, and squints when a picture of the new owner pops up.
“Holy fucking shit,” she breathes. And then, louder, “Holy fucking shit!” She lets out a shout. Little Yang is nodding her head, grasping onto Qingxuan in return and yelling as well. Xie Lian is behind, utterly confused at the level of commotion. Feng Xin rushes back, shouting out, “You dumbasses, why are you yelling?”
And she shoves the phone against his nose in the same way Little Yang had done to her. He too squints down at the picture, and says, “Who the fuck is this?” Recognition flashes across his face, “Wait! Isn’t that the guy in love with you, Lian?!”
“He’s not in love with me,” cries out the man defensively. He is pushing forward, a pout across his lips, eyes wide. “He’s not, I barely know him! He’s only come in here 8 times at most.”
“Eight times?!” Qingxuan screams. “In how many days?”
“I don’t really know?” Xie Lian scratches his head. “Maybe four or five days?”
“He came here earlier today,” Little Yang says, turning to Feng Xin and her. “He’s totally in love with him!” And points her finger at the “him” in question. Xie Lian keeps protesting, before Qingxuan silences them all with a wave of her hand.
The four of them gather around the phone that is still in Qingxuan’s hand in a death grip. “Okay, okay, everyone, we need to keep reading…There has to be something more…”
The newest owner of this Fifth Avenue manor is none other than Hua Cheng, the CEO of the Crimson Rain Hotel and Casino, located in Las Vegas. In addition to his prestigious position, he is a proud graduate of China’s Central Academy of Fine Arts, a university that is set apart as one of the best on a global scale for artists.
When asked what urged Mr. Hua to throw in his own offer for this property, he stated, “New York City has much to offer, from connecting with other companies, understanding new business practices, and, more than anything else, a chance at love.” He added “[He] is besotted with the location because [he] loves someone who frequents the area. ‘I knew it was love from the first glance, and so every single thing of the city has become more beautiful since the first meeting.’”
“Dude,” Feng Xin says, turning to Xie Lian. “He’s in love with you.”
“Literally obsessed,” adds Little Yang, taking her phone from Qingxuan’s hand.
“It’s kind of gross,” Feng Xin interjects again, wrinkling his nose.
She finds herself frowning, and states, “Well I think it’s sweet. He really is trying to win you over, my most beloved best friend.”
Xie Lian had looked at the ground as his coworkers continued to put in their own thoughts. “I really don’t think him buying one of the most sought after homes in the entire U.S. is because he’s interested in me of all people. Besides, there are literally eight million people in New York City alone.”
“He has come in every single day for the past five days in a row, only lets you take his order, places a ridiculous amount of money in our tip jar, and tries to speak with you as much as he can.”
“Our coffee shop is a prime location!” Xie Lian tries to defend himself. “Now on the street across from his house, so it only makes sense that he would be coming here. He’s probably gonna do it a lot more now that he’s officially moved in.”
Feng Xin snorts. “Yeah. He definitely will.”
Just as Little Yang is about to add her own reply, the four of them hear a yell from the front.
A very familiar voice rings out, “Isn’t there supposed to be someone out at the front at all times? Hurry up, I can’t wait here all evening. I also hope whoever comes out isn’t ugly.”
Feng Xin’s eyebrow twitches, and she clocks in and follows closely behind so she can watch one of her favorite dramas unfold.
Sure enough, there was Officer Qing at the register, scowling as soon as he saw Feng Xin stomp up to the counter. The animosity is practically vibrating between the two of them, as Feng Xin walks to stand behind the counter. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I want someone else to take my order because you give the worst customer service of anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life.”
Feng Xin flushes, and opens his mouth to say something offensive no doubt, when another voice rings out.
“Truly, I agree. All I want is my large soy sugar-free latte steamed to 120 degrees, no foam, topped with cinnamon whip cream as my guilty pleasure. I cannot believe that someone is running this shop and that it’s even successful.”
A moment of silence falls between the two baristas and the police officer who regularly comes in. Qingxuan can feel the tension in the air, and is trying so hard to not burst out laughing.
“So don’t fucking come here.” Feng Xin says, voice low. Qingxuan feels a bit sorry for the woman, because when her fierce coworker speaks at a deeper volume, everyone knew to run away.
The woman flushes. She’s wearing an outfit that reeks of insecurity and bitchiness. A cropped top from Gucci that has the name of the band in block letters across the chest, a pair of Lululemon biker shorts three sizes too small, and the Versace low-top sneakers. All in all, a woman who was either married into money (which there was no issue with doing at all, Qingxuan would give anyone a chance regardless of what they were born into), or had an absolutely tacky way of dressing. Or both. “You shouldn’t talk to guests that way,” the lady sneers. Her voice is slowly getting louder. A couple people were staring now. Qingxuan is certain what is about to happen will appear on her TikTok page at some point if their argument continues.
Feng Xin laughs in her face. Qingxuan has to keep her own expression under control, because really? From looks alone you don’t want to mess with him. Feng Xin is tall, and broad.
“Who the hell calls anyone a guest? This isn’t the fucking Plaza, lady. If you think you’re a guest, go get yourself a room there and make someone else want to kill themselves.”
“Everyone knows to call people who enter their stores ‘guest, not ‘customer!”” Her face is as red as a tomato now, and Qingxuan has to turn around for a moment to collect herself, lips tightly pressed together.
Feng Xin’s practically glowing. He loves moments like this. “It’s really hilarious to me that you think I care about what you have to say, or tell me how to do my job.”
“I want to speak to your manager, now!” With the way she’s shrieking, she’s almost loud enough to burst someone’s eardrums.
“You’re looking at him, bitch.” His tone is cocky, taunting her as if he was holding a candy above a naughty child’s head while they were sobbing.
This makes the woman let out a wordless yell. “The customer is always right!”
And Qingxuan can’t save herself from bursting with laughter. Xie Lian and Little Yang had poked their faces out to see what was going on. Xie Lian pinched between his eyebrows, and she heard him let out a tired sigh. Little Yang burrowed into his side, as she did not like loud noises despite living in Brooklyn her entire life.
“Who the fuck told you that?!” howls Feng Xin, holding his stomach as he laughs so hard he cries. It truly was funny, more noise arising from not only her and her coworker, but the entire cafe.
And then it goes downhill.
The wild Karen reaches forward, a manicured hand ready to slap Feng Xin. It slowed down, and Qingxuan’s heart stopped. Oh, Feng Xin is not going to let this end after that, he’s too hotheaded, and then a hand reaches forward, grabbing her wrist and twisting it behind her back.
Officer Qing had grabbed both of the Karen’s wrists, and shoved her head against the counter. “You are under arrest for attempted assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”
“What?!”
“You are under arrest for attempted assault.” Officer Qing repeats as if this woman was a whole different level of stupid. Which, fair. “You’ll be coming with me to the station.”
Feng Xin puffs out his chest, but Qingxuan notices him watching the way that the officer he’s secretly in love with, regardless of how much he denies it, is bent over the counter with the woman whose hands he is cuffing.
Jesus Christ. Are all my coworkers completely stupid when it comes to romance?!
He hauls up the Karen, parading her out, customers laughing and making jabs at the Upper West Side woman, and he adds one last line that causes Feng Xin’s whole face to become bright red, his ears included. “I expect the coffee to be even better considering the way I just did a favor for you.”
Before Feng Xin can yell after him, the officer and fuming woman leave the cafe. Qingxuan claps her hands. “Let’s go, Officer Qing simp squad! You hear the man, the coffee should be even better!” she pounds her coworker's back for extra measure, dipping out of the way like she is one with the wind when he turns towards her to slap her lightly.
“Qingxuan,” chides Xie Lian from where he had watched it all unfold near the backroom door. “Stop harassing Feng Xin, and both of you, please calm down. We haven’t even started the rush yet.”
“Sorry, Lian, you’re right.” If there are two people in this world she hates being reprimanded by most, it is her brother and Xie Lian. She always swallows when Xie Lian scolds her, but quickly rebounds when it comes to him; when her brother scolds her, she will lay awake, ashamed and feeling so much like a little girl. She forces herself to brighten up. “We’ve got this, as usual, everyone!”
Little Yang pumps her hand weakly in response, and they disperse to get back to their tasks.
Just before the rush begins, Zhu An clocks in, greeting Xie Lian enthusiastically. He comes from the back with a fresh batch of pastries, and begins filling them.
Soon, the door is held open, the line going right outside of the building. They are like a well-oiled machine, never faltering and collected, moving in unison at their jobs. She loses track of how many lattes steamed to very specific temperatures she makes, how many businessmen have practically yanked their black coffee from her hands, how many college students begin to take up even more space.
Ah, that’s right, I forgot to ask if I could leave earlier tonight because of tomorrow, she reminds herself. I should probably ask Xie Lian sometime soon. He’ll probably say yes…
True to his words, Officer Qing comes back again. By then the traffic had trickled down enough for Feng Xin to be the one available to take his order. She tries to make herself look extra busy, not even sparing a glance towards her coworker who would vehemently deny wanting to take the officer’s order.
Their usual banter falls into a cheerful background noise as soon as she finishes cleaning the glass cups which collect their espresso, and heads to the back to see Xie Lian. She finds him around the corner, an oversized cream sweater that he no doubt probably paid three dollars tops for pulled up to his elbows as he washes out the gigantic cold brew keg.
“Oh, my dearest, most beloved friend,” she sings.
He quirked an eyebrow at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, how can I help you now?”
“Do you think I can leave early today? Please, please, please, best friend, oh dear best friend, my one and only--”
“Yes, you can leave early today, I know you have a big event tomorrow. I was gonna ask you anyway.”
“Thank you!” She grabs onto his shoulders. “I love you so much, even without this.”
He rolls his eyes, but she continues, “No, truly, I do! I actually saw this Prada black wool trench coat the other day in the Mens Department, and I thought about you. It’s really--”
“You what?! Qing-qing, please tell me you didn’t buy it. I really don’t need--”
“--beautiful, and you’re beautiful too! When they say they’ve ‘never seen two pretty best friends’, it’s a lie, because you and me are best friends--”
“--such an expensive coat, I could have paid my rent at least five times over with how much it costs! Really, thank you, but I’m going to Cure, that thrift shop on 3rd Avenue tomorrow because it’s my day off. I am begging you to return it, please.”
“--and because we’re best friends, we accept each other’s gifts with no complaints. Besides, I bought it in your exact size and had it tailored for your waist.”
Xie Lian pinches the bridge of his nose before placing the rinsed out cold brew keg into the dishwasher. Qingxuan clasps her hands in front of her, making sure to pull out her puppy-dog eyes that even her brother caved to sometimes. For an extra measure, she makes sure to look almost as if she was going to cry.
Xie Lian opens his eyes and gives her a considering look. She could see him crumble, just a bit. He was someone who was steadfast and independent, but he let his inner circle see a bit more into his life and emotions. He sighs, but pats her head. “There’s no need to cry, Qing-qing. I just wish that you would think sometimes before buying things for people. It makes them feel guilty that they can’t return a gift in the same price range. I appreciate your generosity, and I am sure everyone else does as well, but please make sure to take other people's life circumstances into perspective.”
“I suppose you’re right…Anyways, expect the coat to be dropped off at your apartment by Tuesday. I’ll be personally delivering it, of course.”
“You’re gonna walk up all the stairs to my apartment? Without complaining?!” Xie Lian sounds amused.
“Well, I don’t know about that partpart. It’s gonna be a pretty heavy box, so I can’t commit to absolutely no complaining.” She grins at him. He scoffs and pats her head.
“You can leave in an hour,” he offers. “Until then, please don’t slack off and take your job seriously.” She salutes him, and heads back out.
The hour goes by quickly, and she’s soon putting on her coat and waving goodbye.
There’s still so much to do…
--
She barely gets any sleep that night, doing the workload for her classes and getting prepared for the ball dancing taking place that night. She agonizes over what to wear the next morning, as she probably won’t get a chance to change in between classes and race to Lerner Hall at 5:00. Hell, she’ll be lucky to even eat anything today.
She spends even longer going over her options for clothing and shoes. The Chanel loafers? The Prada heels? The Gucci slingbacks? And then, as she ruffles through her stuffed wardrobe, a light appears in her head. The Miu Miu satin ballerina flats! C’mon, how stupid can you get?!
She has always believed that if someone dresses the part, then they are able to succeed with whatever it was that they needed the clothing for. It only made sense that if she dressed like a dancer, she would be as graceful as one on the floor, and oversee the ball dancing as well. And if she wants to be a damn ballerina, she will be one!
She rarely wore black. It wasn’t that it was a bad color -- in fact, with her memory of He Xuan, it was an amazing color on certain people -- but it didn’t suit her own tastes. New York was filled with fashionable people, and those wearing all black were usually stunning; because so many people wore black, she wanted to stick out like a sore thumb in the best of ways, preferring light colors or bold patterns.
She had always known she was pretty -- there was no shame in it. She loved fixing her makeup, and sometimes when feeling extra superficial, staring in the mirror and admiring herself. Yet as she prepares for such a big event, she agonizes over what to wear. It seems as though there were never enough clothes. There was never enough material to keep her warm. There was never something sentimental, that someone had given her as an extra push on hard days. Her own brother refused to lend her a sweatshirt or jacket -- he found it improper for a woman to wear men’s clothing despite being best friends with Ling Wen.
It was unspoken, but the message was clear: women should only wear women's clothing, and men only mens clothing. He never acknowledged the utter ignorance around such claims. It was almost as if he thought it was disgusting for genders to wear different styles that were not intended for them (which was the stupidest thing in the entire world in Qingxuan’s mind. Who cares about who wears what? Sometimes she swears her brother was an old white man on Capitol Hill, making decisions for the youth of America in particular by dividing them into societal norms). She had stepped out of their apartment several times in men’s button up shirts, making sure he did not see her as she left. Gods forbid that he claims she looks like a tramp who just had some kind of “sexual acts” performed upon them.
Fashion was the one way she expressed herself; fashion was the one thing she remained steadfast on despite any word her brother could throw her way. Today, for example, despite wearing a pink patterned Miu Miu dress and her white lace tights, she pulled on her men’s coat which was two sizes too large, a beautiful dark green that would surely match the fall weather. She gave herself one more glance at her reflection, deeming it good enough, and set out.
Fuck. I have to carry my easel for 18 minutes past fast New Yorkers and college students who have nothing to lose and would not care.
--
An easel does not weigh much, but it is bulky and awkward. Qingxuan tumbles down the street, shouting out, “Sorry!” again and again to students and professors and random pedestrians. She almost gets hit by a car. (Twice.)
When she finally makes it to Lerner Hall, she contemplates dumping her easel on the floor before remembering it cost almost $300. Yikes, even her brother who only appreciates art occasionally wouldn’t like hearing this. He already thinks her spending habits are horrid.
She manages to set it up against the wall, lightly covered in sweat (ew), and put her bag down next to it. She sees Tian Sheng setting up the chairs around the edge of the dance floors, and there was Pei Xiu setting up the refreshment table, filled with waters and fruit and small candies, some of which are the fruit jellies they throw out at a parade during the Lunar New Year. Shi Qingxuan remembers desperately trying to catch the candies, her mother scolding her for picking some up off the ground.
Either way, objectively, everything was coming together. There was an excitement palpable in the room, as more volunteers arrived. She sets her easel up in the corner of the large room on the corner across from the door, and brings out the paints and brushes she had carried. I wonder who I’m gonna end up painting tonight, or what song, or what the people will be wearing…hopefully it will be something good. I want something to rival ‘The Dinner at the Ball’...
She quickly gets out of her thoughts as the flurry of people begin entering. She smiles and greets people, falling next to Ban Yue. There were indeed a lot of people -- over 400 easily, some wearing casual clothing and some decked to the nines, some children dragged along with their parents and hopping excitedly, college students who looked happy despite the bags under their eyes, professors and their spouses, and older couples who clearly were using this as an excuse to feel as they did when they first got married. Qingxuan could feel warmth flooding through her veins as she saw the turnout for this event.
“This deadass might be the best event we’ve had so far,” Tian Sheng says bluntly. Pei Xiu snorts next to him. “I’m being serious! There’s no way the newspaper could say anything bad about this event!”
“Yes!” Qingxuan agrees, clapping her hands. “That’s the spirit! Now, everyone, the speech will be soon! Excuse me while I go make sure I look amazing!”
“You always do, Qing-qing,” Ban Yue supplies in her gentle voice.
“This is why you’re my favorite, Ban Yue. You’re so sweet. But I really need to make sure I look good. The speech will begin soon, and then the dancing. Places, people!”
When she enters the bathroom, she grips onto the counter and takes a deep breath. “You’ve got this, Shi Qingxuan. You are going to do amazing. This event is about to be flawless. Everyone is gonna love it. Everyone is gonna love you. Everything is gonna be okay.”
Just as she fixes her dress once again, brushing her hair with her fingers, she hears, “Can you move? I need to wash my hands.”
She almost leaps in the air, turning around indignantly but with an apology on her lips, when it processes who said it.
It’s her.
Oh, dear Gods above. Someone kill her.
She stumbles away from the sink, letting out, “Yes! Please!” and goes a grand gesture towards the sink as if offering a mansion to the girl of her dreams.
He Xuan barely acknowledges her, pushing past her to wash her hands. As she watches the other girl, her mouth dries when she sees what the other girl is wearing. It’s a black minidress with lace trim at the bust, and the softness of He Xuan’s chest spilling slightly over makes her want to squirm in a way that is not PG-13. Paired with her fishnet tights and black platform lace-up loafers, it was as if Shi Qingxuan’s mind had conjured up an image to think of at night. The paleness of her skin on her legs was peeking through the holes of the tights, the same color as her milky throat that Qingxuan had noted the first time they met.
However, her mind hyper-focuses on one thing. While perhaps her mouth had been dry before, now she might as well have been drooling and foaming at the mouth when she notices one dark mole right on top of her left breast, an inch above where the hem of the silk dress.
Oh.
And then, I want her to be disrespectful to me in literally every single way.
“You seem to have a serious staring problem. Can I help you?” It was not worded as a question that He Xuan actually cared about being answered.
“No!” Qingxuan’s voice squeaks, literally squeaks, and she wishes someone would knock her out right now. Though the sight of He Xuan, a dream that was made in heaven, could make the likes of anyone nervous, if not for her beauty and sharp winged eyeliner then her biting tones.
She’s so hot.
“Then look elsewhere.”
Qingxuan wants to ask so many questions. “Do you remember me?” No, it doesn’t seem like she does. “What are you doing here?” Attending the event, and for that Qingxuan will give her thanks to the gods above. “Are you excited to dance?” The image of He Xuan dancing makes her want to perhaps giggle a bit. “Did you bring someone with you?” The thought makes her ill to her very core. “Are you aware of how attractive you are?” Most likely. “Can we dance together?” He Xuan would most likely laugh at her. “Can I press my face into your tits?” Literally, what the fuck is she on?
Qingxuan raises a hand, trying to come up with some response. It was quite weird, to not be able to say something when she’s known to say just about anything, but this is the effect He Xuan alone has on her. Before she can, the other woman finishes washing her hands, rips off the paper towels and gruffly wipes her hands, and leaves the bathroom. She stares after her before the door closes and hides the black-haired girl from her eyesight.
She would smack herself if it wouldn’t be visible on her face when she makes the speech.
--
The speech goes smoothly, and soon all the festivities and dancing begins. The live music seems to bring such energy to people that has the dance floor is packed. Qingxuan can’t even find the other girl in the mass of people, though she keeps an eye on the crowd like a hawk for any sign of the short black dress and fishnet stockings. She becomes distracted whenever she remembers He Xuan’s voice from the bathroom, low and deep and perpetually flat and almost bored. Dismissive, even.
And for some sick reason, that hooks Qingxuan even further.
For the rest of the night, she half-heartedly takes pictures for inspiration of what to paint, though none have piqued her interests nearly a quarter of how much she wants to find He Xuan in the crowd.
Ban Yue slips in next to her. “Are you okay? You seem kinda distracted. Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” Qingxuan replies automatically, standing on her tiptoes to see over people. She falls flat on her feet again once she realizes everyone is too tall to see around. “I mean! Yes! Everything is wonderful! I’m so happy!”
Ban Yue stares at her, and says, “You’re looking for someone?”
“What?! No no no no, I am looking for the best angle to capture a picture so I can begin the painting…”
“You’re a horrible liar.”
“I know.” Qingxuan’s shoulders fell. “So, I may be looking out for the most beautiful woman in the history of the universe. Who just so happens to be here. And might be hiding from me. Definitely unintentionally. I didn’t annoy her at all or anything.”
“Right.” Ban Yue’s voice was slightly amused. “Well, you’re beautiful too, Qing-qing, and I think you should focus on how well this event is going. There’s no way anyone will be able to say anything bad about this.”
“You’re right, I should. Thank you. I really will try to focus now, I promise.”
True to her word, as soon as Ban Yue left, Qingxuan watched the dancing. Surprisingly, a voice breaks out. “May I have this dance?”
Oh, how disgusting. Her whole body shudders as she turns around to see Pei Ming, her brother’s best friend. “What are you doing here?”
“Jeez, Qing-qing,” something about him saying her nickname rubs her the wrong way, “I’m here because my lovely date just so happens to be a first year law student here at Columbia and wanted to come here. Women always flock to these kinds of things.”
“Apparently so do douchebags,” she responds brightly. She gets satisfaction from watching his face twist with annoyance.
“Be careful with your words,” he says. In a stage whisper and a dramatic look around, “We wouldn’t want to make your brother upset, would we? Arguing with one of his oldest, best friends? At an event he wants a report on?!”
“What do you mean,” Qingxuan says hotly, “‘a report’?! Is my brother really asking for someone else’s take on my event?”
“He just wants you to succeed,” Pei Ming says innocently. “Now, shall we dance? It looks awfully rude for the president of the club who organized this event keeping a guest waiting.”
Qingxuan has been biting her tongue for most of her life. With her parents, with her brother, with her family’s friends, with strangers who are rude at the coffee shop. For someone who speaks so much, sometimes it feels as if she has no power over what she chooses to respond with. Spontaneous, bright Qingxuan who pulls others out of their shell and always has something exciting to say, or a way to view a situation with a better spin. Spontaneous, bright Qingxuan, who is slightly dimmed when in the shadows of her parents, of her brother, of her family’s friends, of people who are rude at the coffee shop.
Focus! This event will go well. Think positive!
She swallows any bitterness, and grabs his hand that was stretched out tightly, a thin smile on her lips. “Sure! Lead the way!”
She hates every minute of her dance with her nemesis, and as soon as it ends she practically runs away from him. The next couple of hours are filled with conversing, looking at the charitable donations they received, refreshing the tables with more food and drinks, and taking more pictures for any inspiration.
Nothing can rival my aspiration of Adolph Menzel quite yet…
Soon enough, it is reaching very late in the night, and people are beginning to trickle out. Many people stopped by the table to gush, the group was standing behind and each team member of the club was smiling and waving. When around ninety percent of the people were gone, Tian Sheng began packing up the chairs, Pei Xui helping, and Ban Yue began to count the donations and put them in the cash drawer they had brought.
Due to the dwindling crowd, each person still on the dance floor or on the side were more discernible and easy to pick out. Adrenaline immediately filled her as she found the one person she had been looking for all night.
(This is the way the story will go, though neither know it at the time: Shi Qingxuan seeking out, and He Xuan an unshakable force; He Xuan, who, may one day be seeking, and Shi Qingxuan, a trembling version of herself. But this is much later.)
On complete impulse, she makes her way over to the other woman. He Xuan had her laptop balanced on her thighs, the same messenger bag as the day they met on the floor next to her. Whatever she was doing, she was completely focused -- the opposite of Qingxuan herself. Maybe it really was fate, a small part of her had been thinking, meeting He Xuan and seeing her again. Or maybe that was just her being hopeful.
Either way, she rushes out, “What are you doing sitting on the side! With your laptop?”
If she notices a new presence bugging her, she doesn’t show it. Or maybe she didn’t hear, so Qingxuan tries again, “Have you been having fun? Maybe needed a break? I know my own laptop is in my bag, because I had to come here right after class. And had to lug my easel for a good mile and a half, and let me tell you, that’s pretty hard --”
“Why are you talking to me,” He Xuan cuts in flatly, evidently irritated at being interrupted from whatever work she has going on.
“Oh.” Qingxuan pauses, searching the girl’s face. The light from her laptop mixed with the light overhead showcased the same high cheekbones that Qingxuan had wanted to brush her fingers up the very first time they met. The desire was still there. “Well, I was the one who came up with this idea, so it’s also my job to make sure people are enjoying themselves! Though, you must be doing something for class, right? Something to submit soon?”
He Xuan sharply closes her laptop, turning her face up to meet her own. “Yes. Something like that.” Her vague response intrigues Qingxuan, but something tells her He Xuan wouldn’t answer what it was exactly that she was doing.
Just as she opens her mouth, there is a tap on the mic. “The song after this will be the last song of the night!” The lead instrumentalist announces. When she whips her head around, there are only two couples left on the dance floor.
He Xuan hasn’t been having a lot of fun if she’s been on her laptop for long… Maybe --
A ruffling noise turns her back around, and she sees the other girl packing up her belongings, zipping her messenger bag up and picking up her coat on the floor next to her.
“Where are you going!” It came out loud, and much more indignant than she wanted. And before she could stop herself, because evidently around this girl she can’t act normally (or as normal as Shi Qingxuan Will Ever Get).
“Home?” comes the answer. He Xuan squints up at her, and slowly rises from the chair. “It’s,” she checks her phone, “almost 1:00 A.M. I am going to go home, and sleep, like most normal people.”
The song came to a close. Something desperate fills her. This is your last chance! What if you never see her again! Do something!
Before she can fully realize what her body is doing, she has lurched forward and grabbed both of the other girl’s much bigger hands in her own. “Dance with me!”
“What.” He Xuan sounds positively appalled, and tries to pull her hands back, but Qingxuan grips them harder.
“Dance with me!” she repeats, half hysterical. “It’s the last dance of the night, you know!”
“There’s no reason to shout, I’m literally right here.”
“Sorry! Um, it’s the last dance of the night.”
“Yes, you’ve said that at least like, three times now.”
“So, how many songs have you danced to?”
“Absolutely none. Are you kidding me?” He Xuan wrinkles her nose. It was the most expressive Qingxuan had seen her all night, and it was when she was disgusted.
“Exactly! You danced to none! And this is a dancing event! Therefore, you have to dance at least once!”
“Says who?” He Xuan sneers.
“Me!” She cries frantically. “I do, and I made this event happen, so therefore, you have to dance. With me!”
“I would rather drown,” comes the flat response.
“This will be much better than drowning, I promise.”
Do your puppy dog eyes, she hisses to herself, No one can resist them.
She takes a deep breath to gather herself, and when she opens her eyes again, she stares directly into He Xuan’s own.
They were lovely, the color seeming to change. She finds herself mesmerized momentarily. Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to be pleading. “I just want to make sure everyone has an amazing time and something fond to remember,” she pleads softly. She makes sure her lips pout perfectly. Maybe she should have applied to NYU Tisch. “I really put everything into this, and it would mean the absolute world to me if you chose to dance with me for the last song of the night. Please, He Xuan?”
“How do you know my name?”
She can’t help the giggle that comes through, half nervous. “I helped you at the cafe.”
She swears she sees recognition flash in the other girl’s eyes, but it is gone as quickly as it came. He Xuan pulls her hands away with more force, and Shi Qingxuan lets her. She feels her heart sinking, and she knows she must have looked foolish, but she tries one last time.
“Please? For me?”
A sigh came from the taller (much taller) girl. She watches as the girl clad in black turns around, and she’s prepared to watch her dream girl leave her once again, when she sees He Xuan place her bag back on the floor and untie her coat.
“Something tells me you’re fucking annoying when you don’t get your way. If this makes you that happy and gets you to leave me alone, then yes, this is something I’ll sacrifice this one time in my entire life.”
She could only hear her heart beating in her chest, and the last song of the night beginning to play. She stares, absolutely in awe of He Xuan and all her godliness. She was carved out of marble. She was a water nymph, no, a water goddess, who has come up from the depths to seduce an unassuming mortal such as Shi Qingxuan herself.
“Well?” He Xuan’s voice cuts through her imagination. “Are we dancing, or not? Let’s get this over with.”
“Right! Yes! Dancing! Now!”
She pulls the other woman out to the dance floor, turning back to look at her as she leads her out into the center of the floor, now alone other than two other couples. She can’t help the victorious grin that has plastered itself across her cheeks, as well as the flush that comes across her entire face and down her throat when she realizes she has to actually dance with this holy being, oh my gods, what did you get yourself into--
She’s startled when He Xuan fixes their limbs into the proper setting for a waltz. The coldness of her hand burns into Qingxuan’s skin even through clothes, but it’s delicious in a way that makes her shudder. To imagine He Xuan’s hands brushing her waist is more than she could have hoped for mere days ago. Truly, she has ascended.
“I’m leading,” says the other girl.
“Okay,” is all she can manage, completely willing to let her do anything.
Their dancing begins. He Xuan is smooth with her movements, domineering in her leading style, and works the waltz like a seasoned professional. Qingxuan has so many questions burning on her lips once again.
“You dance really well,” she tries to keep her voice quiet to match the music and movements, “where did you learn?”
“I had to have an instructor growing up.” Her tone leaves no room for any more questions. He Xuan’s hands tighten for a moment, as if remembering something that made her tense.
Oh, please, treat me as roughly as needed. Please, please leave marks on me like you’ve already left on my heart, He Xuan. I barely know you and I’m enchanted from meeting you.
“Thank you for humoring me,” she says softly. A pause. “And by the way, you’re right, I do get fucking annoying when I don’t get my way.” She laughs, and He Xuan’s black-painted lips twitch for a second.
Oh, gods, this is so bad. Butterflies is an understatement. It’s like the entire Central Park Zoo came pounding into her chest. She knows there would be no pain right now if the other girl were to tear her open and pull out her beating heart -- it’s already hers to begin with, which is so pathetic but disgustingly true.
Something about their movements, the way they are natural when waltzing, the way the banter comes, the way He Xuan’s biting words only interest her more that solidifies her desire for the other girl in her mind. Maybe it was awfully sad to have a crush on someone you barely know, but Shi Qingxuan fell in love with people all the time -- but has never felt like this.
She wonders if He Xuan can feel it in the way her own grip tightens, in the way her eyes never stray from her face, in her never-ending word vomit of questions and her flushed cheeks, the way the taller girl made her feel. If she does, she doesn’t show it.
Sadly, all good things must come to an end. The last notes of the song come to a beautiful stopping point, and He Xuan rips herself away like she had been burned. She immediately turns to go get her things, and Shi Qingxuan has to cut her losses but also press a hand to her mouth to hide her gitty grin.
“He Xuan! Thank you for dancing with me! You’re really skilled! Maybe we can do this again?”
“Absolutely not. Never again.” He Xuan ties her long black trench coat into place around her waist. Qingxuan mourns the loss of the sight of her beautiful skin.
“Well, thank you for dancing with me anyways. Maybe we can hang out sometime? There’s this new exhibit at the Met coming soon, and you seem like the kind of person --”
“I’m fine. Bye.”
No goodnight. No No thank you. No I had fun too. No Don’t worry, I like you as much as you like me.
Even still, Qingxuan will forever be enchanted.
As she watches the other girl leave, she is unaware of how wide her smile is and how flushed she looks.
Much later, however, after everything is packed up and she is home, a realization hits her.
She hadn’t found a subject for her painting!
Oh, shit. She rubs a hand over her face, and decides she’ll go through her pictures and pick one tomorrow at random to paint. She plugs her phone into her charger, and sees a message from Ban Yue.
“thought this might be something you wanted, maybe as inspiration because i saw you didn’t paint. this could help!!! get some rest.”
And attached was a picture of her and He Xuan dancing.
Oh, how lovely this painting was going to be.