Chan watched Veronica go into her apartment building. He didn't drive off immediately. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he kept replaying Veronica's words.
"I don't celebrate my birthday, Chan. I honestly forgot about it until Charlotte wished me at midnight."
He couldn't believe that. He loved celebrating birthdays. His parents had always made a big deal about them. He grew up with surprise parties and special birthday breakfasts. He loved planning elaborate gifts for people's birthdays. Making sure to get them something he knew they would love. He liked to make people feel special on their special day. And it was Veronica. Someone who held such an important place in his life. It didn't feel right.
Backing out of the driveway, he drove off. He hadn't stopped to think about what had happened at Diana's party. And more importantly, what it meant. It didn't help that he had lied to Veronica. But the moment she had asked him about the party, Chan knew he couldn't tell her the truth. Because he wasn't ready to face the aftermath of it. He needed more time to prepare himself for the eventuality of his and Veronica's breakup.
He parked the car in the garage, still deep in thought as he entered his home. The place was quiet. He knew that Lucas was at school, practicing for an upcoming debate competition, and that Hannah was at her swimming lessons. As he walked deeper into the house, he found Berry asleep on the couch, lying on her favorite blanket.
He was about to head up to his room when he heard whispers coming from his parents' bedroom. Taking tentative steps, he walked towards the noise.
The gate was slightly ajar, and he could hear voices floating out of the room. At first he thought that his parents were fighting but soon he realised that they were talking about him.
"I don't know how to talk to him," his mom said. He could see her faint silhoutte perched on the bed. "Every time the opportunity comes, I chicken out."
"It is okay, Honey," his dad placated her. "If you want, I will talk to him. Channie is a good kid. He will understand."
Chan scrunched up his eyebrows, curious. What did his parents want to talk to him about?
"I see it in the way he carries himself," his mom continued. "Like he is still afraid that something bad would happen. As if he still needs to keep himself prepared for jumping in."
What was she talking about?
"I know," his dad agreed. "I feel so ashamed about how Chan had to manage everything. He took over completely. Looking after Hannah and Lucas. And I let him. I let him be the parent." Chan could hear the guilt and hurt in his dad's voice.
He opened his mouth but then closed it. He didn't like thinking about those years. No one had seen it coming. Everything was amazing, and then suddenly, his mom was sick. Suddenly, life was this uncertain thing, and he couldn't calculate the next move.
"It is not your fault," his mother comforted his dad. "It was a shock to everyone. We all responded in our own ways."
His dad had taken the news the worst. And once the weight of it had settled, he had devoted himself to being with his wife completely. That was when Chan realised that he was the one who would have to keep things going. He managed Lucas and Hannah's schedule since both of them were still in school. He drove them and picked them up. Made food and attended the parent-teacher meetings on his parents' behalf. But he never held it against his dad. It was what it was.
"I want him to move on now," his mom said. "Get an apartment, focus on his studies. It's not his job to remember my doctor appointments or go to Lucas' debates. He has to live his own life."
Chan didn't like the way his parents were discussing him. If they had any problems, they should talk to him directly. And his mother was not correct. Chan was living. Moving on. Going back to the university was a step in that direction. So what that he kept reminders on his phone about his mom's appointments. Or wanted to step in a bit more if Dad was busy with swimming practice. It didn't mean that he was not living his life. His parents and siblings were a part of his life.
And what else did they expect anyway? These things had become like a muscle memory. He had spent so long looking after this family that he couldn't just stop.
Slowly, without making any noise, he went out of the house. His mind a jargon of thoughts he couldn't decipher. He needed time and space to make sense of what he felt and thought. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he quickly typed a text before realizing that he was about to message Veronica.
Ice cream? That was what the text read. It had become a little thing between them. Whenever one of them was having a shitty day, they would send 'Ice Cream' as a text message. And they would meet up, eat ice cream, and just talk.
He needed that right now. But he had just dropped her off, and he knew that she would be asleep. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and got back into his car.
ð¤
"I like the guitar riff at the end," Han said, listening to the recorded tape again. His neck moved along to the beat. "But is it good enough?"
Chan sighed, leaning back onto the couch and squishing the pillow. They had been going at it for hours. Time slipping away like grains of sand. The recital was coming up soon, and they needed to have a well-prepared guide before jumping into rehersals.
"I will look into it tomorrow," Chan said, rubbing his eyes. "I have no brain capacity left."
Han did say anything for a while. Then, "Are you okay?"
Chan looked up from his laptop. "Why?"
Han shrugged, crossing his arms. "I don't know. You come here out of the blue. And then we practice for like 5 hours straight. I respect the commitment, but clearly, something is on your mind."
Chan ran a hand over his face. His mind was a screech of static he was trying to drown out. "I- I don't know."
Han nodded, his expression neuteal. Chan groaned, closing his eyes and resting his head on the wall. "There's some stuff at home that I need to figure out. And then there's," he stopped, unsure how to proceed.
"There's what?" Han prompted, his eyes curious.
Chan gulped, trying to formulate the words into a sentence. But no matter how he tried, there was no other way around it. She was there. In the back of her head. "There's this thing about Veronica," he confessed.
A small smile appeared on Han's face, his expression gleeful. "What about her?"
So, Chan told him. About the deal with Veronica. The fake-dating to make Diana jealous. What had happened at Diana's party. His confusion at his reaction. Han listened, eyes intent on his every word. It felt nice to tell this to someone. Liberating.
"I don't know why I reacted like that," Chan said, recounting the moment when Diana had tried to kiss him. "I mean, wasn't that the whole point of this? So that she gets jealous enough to make a move? But now that she did, I don't know what I want."
"Did you tell Veronica?" Han asked, pushing back his glasses.
Chan shook his head. "She asked me about it this morning, and I lied so fast. Because all I could think about was how if she found it, she would suggest breaking up and," he stopped, taking a deep breath. Making himself accept the truth was hard. Speaking it out to someone was even harder. "And I don't want that."
This was the only thing he knew about himself. The one thing he was sure about.
"You know what that means, right?" Han's voice was soft. "This whole thing started because seeing your ex after so long fucked with your mind. But, I don't think you actually want to get back together with Diana."
"She's," Chan started, licking his lips. "Been such a big part of my life and for so long that when she left, there was this crater in my life. I spent a year trying to fill it up. And then she came back. And all my efforts to cover up that void, the time and pain it took, all began to crack a little."
He closed his laptop, placing it beside him on the couch. Han's room was messy. Clothes strewn everywhere, day old coffee mugs were spread across different surfaces. There were posters of animes and rock bands hanging on the walls. It was very like him.
"When she broke up with me," Chan said, umprompted. He was looking at the glow-in-the-dark dinosaur stickers that were glued on the ceiling. "I understood why she did it. I became a different person during that time. All I could focus on was my family. Trying to be there for them. To be someone they could depend on. I did neglect other parts of my life. But the ease with which she did it stung. As if the last five years meant nothing. She dropped off a box full of my stuff at my doorstep. And asked me to do the same. Suddenly, I wasn't reeling with my life on just one front. I was- am angry at her for that. I am sure she was mad at me too for tanking our relationship."
"Do you think that's why you want her to want you back?" Han asked, fidgeting with one of the stickers on his laptop.
"I think," Chan said, pressing his lips together. "I wanted her to see that I was different. That had she given me more time to get my footing right, I could've been the Chan she knew before. But I guess I realize now that I don't have to show her anything. I am not the same person. I can never be."
"What about Veronica?" Han asked. "Do you feel like you need to be 'old' Chan with her?"
Chan opened his mouth to answer but got cut off when his phone started vibrating. It was Sophia. They worked together at Mano's.
"Hey," Chan answered.
He could hear the noise on Sophia's end. The techno music blasting off the speakers sounded horrid.
"Hey," Sophia said. "I thought I should call and tell you that this girl who's here often with you is at the bar. And very drunk."
Chan scrunched his eyebrows. "Who?"
"Ummm, curly hair? Brown eyes?"
Chan shot up from the couch, making Han jump. "Veronica?" He rushed out of the room.
Pulling out his keys from his pocket, he started his car and reversed out of Han's driveway.
"Is she okay?"
"I gave her water as her last three tequila shots, and she didn't notice."
Chan winced. "Just-I will be there soon."
Chan found Veronica slumped on one of the barstools, her head on the counter. Luckily, the spot next to her was empty.
"Veronica?" Chan sat down and tapped her shoulder.
She looked up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She was drunk. Her eyes were puffy and unfocused. It took her a couple of seconds to realize who he was.
"Chan?" She slurred, leaning in and squinting her eyes at him.
She was still dressed in the clothes he had seen in the morning. Her shirt was completely rumpled, and her coat was nowhere in sight.
"Let's get you home," he said, trying to gently coax her.
She shook her head, digging her heels in. "I don't want to go home. I want another tequila shot."
Chan sighed, unsure of what to do. He sat back down and tried to keep his voice as gentle as possible. "You are going to make yourself sick."
Veronica shook her head, grinning. "I don't care. It's my birthday and I deserve to celebrate it. Especially when I was told to my face how much of an unwanted kid I was."
A heavy weight settled in Chan's stomach. He grapped her hand. "Who told you that?"
But Veronica didn't listen to his question. "Two tequila shots, please," she told Sophia.
Sophia looked at Chan, and when he nodded, poured water in two ahot glasses and slid it to them. Veronica clinked her glass with Chan's before drowning the drink.
The longer he looked at her, the sadder he got. He knew Veronica didn't want him to pity her. And he didn't. He felt desolate and furious to see someone like suffering.
"Now let's go home," he said, making her get up. "I even drank with you."
She slipped her arm away from his grip, stumbling in her steps. Chan reached out to steady her. "Careful."
Veronica squinted her eyes and leaned in. Placing a finger on his chest, she said, "Why are you here? You shouldn't see me like this."
"Like what?"
"This," she said, gesturing at herself. "Messy. I-This is not how I want you to think of me."
Chan placed his knuckles under her chin, tipping her face up to meet his eyes. "You can messy, Veronica. I can handle it."
For a second, the bar faded. Chan couldn't even hear the music. All his senses were focused on the person standing before him. This close, he could see the smear of her red lipstick. The way her curls stick to her forehead because of the sweat. He could faintly smell her perfume, the sweet, smokey fragrance of it.
"Let's go," he whispered into the air between them.
Veronica nodded, letting him intertwine their fingers and exit the club.
Chan made sure the seatbelt on Veronica's side was secure before getting into the car. He was careful not to drive too fast, lest it made her sick.
Veronica was silent for the length of the car ride. He thought she had fallen asleep, but when he turned to look at her, he found her gazing outside the window.
He was tempted to ask her what had happened. Their was this air of sadness around her. A wave threatening to crash so hard, and she was simply trying to keep it at bay.
"Are you okay?" Chan asked. "Do you feel sick?"
She shook her head, licking her lips. "I feel unsteady."
"It'll be okay," he murmured, parking the car.
He helped her get out of the car, almost carrying her into the building. It took Veronica ten minutes to find her keys. She stumbled inside, a surprised chuckle escaping her lips.
Chan placed a hand around her waist to steady her. He wondered if he should get her something to eat, but he was ninety-nine percent sure that she would throw up. Her face had a slightly green tint to it.
"I feel sick," she mumbled as she entered the washroom. Leaning against the sink, she took a couple of deep breaths.
"Veronica, I think -" But whatever he was going to say was cut off as she rushed to the toilet and threw up.
Chan winced. Moving forward, he grabbed her hair, holding it back from her face. As she dry heaved, he ran circles against her back, trying to calm her down.
Once she was done, she sank against the floor. Getting up, he helped wash her face and get her a glass of water. They stayed there on the bathroom floor, the cold tiles digging into his thighs with Veronica lying next to him.
"I am sorry," she whispered, her voice quivering.
"Sshh," Chan said, gently combing her hair with his fingers. "Do you want more water?"
Veronica shook her head.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?"
She shook her head again. Chan didn't press her further. They stayed there, he didn't know for how long. He would have stayed there forever, for as long as she needed him to.
"I feel okay now," she proclaimed, her voice thin.
"Do you think you can get up?"
She nodded. Chan got up first and then offered Veronica his hand. He pulled her to her feet. She took in a deep breath and then exhaled.
"Okay," she said. "I think I can walk."
Gently, she walked out of the bathroom, Chan trailing after her. "You don't have to stay. I feel okay now."
"Okay."
When Chan didn't move, she turned to look at him. "Seriously, I am okay. You can leave."
Chan nodded. "I understand." He grabbed the spare pillow and sat down on the chair in the room. "So comfortable."
"Chan," Veronica started, but he didn't let her finish.
"I am not leaving, Veronica."
She frowned and swayed on her feet a little. She was still a bit drunk. "Why?"
Chan sighed. Tired of having to explain it. "Because I choose to stay."