Absinthe

Chapter 34: Questions and Answers: Part 3

"Stop!" I said, devastated to hear that Jiwoo had to experience all that in the hands of a gay teacher at

a young age.

"Sorry," Jiwoo replied.

"No, I'm sorry." I said. "You should have reported him."

"My mom told me I should have said yes and asked for more money. My stepdad was furious that I said

no."

I didn't know how to react, so I just kept quiet. The whole thing was too depressing.

"So I let him do it. I couldn't afford to be a high school dropout," Jiwoo said, and my world fell apart.

It has always been difficult living as a gay guy. I mean, I did get fired for being gay, and there was

absolutely nothing I could do about it. Then there's the notion that we're always thirsty for sex, that

we're willing to open our mouths wide and spread our legs apart as soon as a dick comes our way.

And no one takes us seriously in almost every industry, except maybe for fashion and entertainment.

It's a never-ending struggle for us to prove to everyone that there's so much more to us than our sexual

preference.

That's why it infuriates me whenever I hear about gays tarnishing the image the rest of us have worked

hard to build, abusing their authorities, and forcing themselves on the straight populace.

Unforgivable.

"Although in hindsight, I guess it would have been better to just drop out," said Jiwoo. "I wasn't able to

finish college anyway." He fiddled with his fork before continuing. "I met that bastard Jesus again four

years later, I think, in one of the bars I worked at." I was seriously dreading the words he was going to

say next. "He bragged to everyone around that I couldn't get enough of him. Then, he slid a few

hundred-peso bills into my pocket before copping a feel."

"Fuck," I said. "On behalf of the gay federation, I would like to apologize."

"Hahahaha!" Fortunately, it was the genuine sort of laughter. "That's what I realized. I thought he acted

that way because he was gay, and I thought all of you were one and the same."

"That's why you did what you did..."

"Among other things," Jiwoo said. "But I know now that my math teacher did that not because he was

gay but because he was a disgusting person."

I nodded, thankful for reasons I couldn't quite articulate.

"When you got mad and stopped talking to me," Jiwoo began. "I visited him in my old school."

"..."

"I stalked him for a bit. Followed him around until he got home."

"Jiwoo—"

"I didn't know what got into me. I entered his house and grabbed him by the collar. I just wanted to beat

him. It felt like he was the reason why I made you angry, like he was the reason why I lost you."

"God, please tell me you didn't do anything to him."

"That's what's confusing: I couldn't do it. I couldn't hit him despite my anger."

I sighed in relief. Jiwoo wasn't looking at me; he was staring at the transparent ceiling.

"What he did to me had nothing to do with what I did to you," Jiwoo said, finally. "I needed to own up to

how I acted. I'm really sorry, BJ."

"Okay," I said.

"Okay?" Jiwoo asked. "You mean we're friends again?"

I shook my head. "I mean okay, I accept your apology. But I don't think I'm ready to be friends with you

again just yet."

Jiwoo broke into a wide smile. "I'll take it. But you'll let me earn it back, won't you?"

"You could try," I teased. "And please stop asking cringeworthy questions, alright?"

Jiwoo laughed and fished two items out of his breast pocket. They were donut-shaped pendants, flat

and silvery against the moonlight. I recognized them to be the ones we had received from that love

potion seller in Recto.

"We should have worn this," he said. "The vendor said our relationship would flourish if we use them. I

should have believed her!"

I laughed my heart out. "Are you being serious right now?" It was difficult to talk because I couldn't stop

myself from laughing.

"I lost three months of friendship with you," Jiwoo said.

I laughed harder. "There's no way I'm wearing that."

"If you don't believe it, why not wear it?" Jiwoo asked.

"Um, because it's ugly?" I replied, still laughing.

"It doesn't have to be visible. C'mon, wear it for me."

Jiwoo stood up and walked behind me. He then proceeded to tie the necklace around my neck. The

cold of the metal pendant felt strange against my skin. He sat back down and proceeded to wear his.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked.

"Nothing," he answered. "I just have a feeling that things will turn out better for the both of us from now

on."

The next dishes that came were absolutely out of this world. The presentation, the textures, and the

flavors were beyond what I could describe with my vocabulary—and to think they were made by only a

two-starred chef! How on earth were we going to get three stars if we were nowhere near as good as

Chef Maxwell?

When dessert came around, a band came in and started playing a very slow, soft rendition of Kiss Me

by Sixpence None the Richer. Jiwoo locked eyes with me, and we burst out laughing. I was glad there

was no more bad blood between us. What Jiwoo had done was horrible, no doubt, but I understood

him now. He must have had other reasons that day that he wasn't ready to talk about yet, something

more horrible than his experience with that fucked up math teacher named Jesus.

Then, with all the angry emotions surrounding the memory out of the picture, I remembered his kiss

more clearly.

Oh! Kiss me, beneath the milky twilight.

Lead me out on the moonlit floor.

Lift your open hand.

Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance

Silver moon's sparkling

In a moment, Jiwoo was beside me again, smiling. This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

So kiss me.

And he did. He placed his lips softly on mine, and I lost my train of thought.

So kiss me.

So kiss me.

So kiss me.