Ryan was sitting in the staff room when he walked in.  There was a break between classes and neither of them had tutorials booked, so it was the perfect opportunity to relax in comfort.  Not that Nathan was able to get much in the way of comfort lately.  These last couple of days had him questioning his entire relationship with Yuri and it was getting to him.

“You really screwed up, you know,” Ryan sighed, rinsing the remnants of his tea from his mug.

The constant reminders from him were not helping.

“You had one job,” Ryan turned around.  “One job.  Be a decent boyfriend to this Yuri girl.”

“Well I’m sorry I failed to live up to your expectations then,” Nathan rolled his eyes

“Come on, dude,” Ryan sat down.  “You started acting like you two were getting married!!!  You were dating!!!  Nothing more.  You weren’t in bed together, you weren’t engaged.  If she wants to go and see a stripper, then she can.  And you can’t stop her.”

“Could Sunny?” Nathan asked pointedly.

"She could, but my girl doesn’t like them,” he answered, a little too proudly.

“What if she did?”

“She wouldn’t, ok?  Can’t you keep a girl for longer than six months?” he sighed.  “I feel like you haven’t learned anything from watching me.”

Nathan slowly looked up to Ryan.  “Excuse me?” he asked, his anger at Ryan’s arrogance starting to show.

“Girls don’t want to be tied down,” he continued sagely.  “Well, some do, but that’s a different story,” he laughed obscenely.

“I’m going back to class,” Nathan stood up to leave.

“Oh come on, lighten up!  No wonder she wants the stripper over you.”

“Yuri doesn’t ‘want’ the stripper.”

“Sure she does.  Stripper means hot body.  That’s all girls care about.  If you look good and you got a nice package, she’s yours.”

“I’m going to leave now,” he answered back, louder than before.  “I’ll wait for you and your one track mind to calm the hell down.”

“Oh come on,” Ryan called back, growing more agitated.  “You serious?  You really cannot take a joke, can you.”

“A joke?!”

“Nate, seriously.  Yuri isn’t your property.  She needs to be free to do what she wants.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Well ...”

“I do, ok?” Nathan walked towards his accuser.  “I know she is independent.  She has her own mind.  She has her own beliefs.  She is not beholden to me in any way.  Does that mean I can’t have issues with her looking at some hot, half- guy that she’s had a huge crush on for many years and still holds a torch for?”

Ryan fell silent.

“Would you not have issues if Sunny was like that with the stripper?”

“Sunny wouldn’t do that. That girl loves me.”

“Maybe she does, but tell me you wouldn’t have issues with it.”

“This is different, ok?  Sunny wouldn’t do it.”

“You still wouldn’t like it if she did.”

“But she’s not, ok?”

Nathan shook his head at Ryan’s attitude.  Oddly enough, by not answering his questions, by not saying anything, Ryan had aired the same fears Nathan had.  By saying how the situation was different, Ryan wasn’t acknowledging what would happen if Sunny did have a crush on a stripper of her own.

The lunchtime bell rang, interrupting their stand-off.

“I’m going to get lunch,” Ryan declared.  “You want to come?”

“You going to the diner?”

“Duh,” he walked over to his locker and picked up his jacket and wallet.  “Where else?”

Nathan looked away, trying to avoid answering.  He wanted to go, not least for the food.  Despite their argument, Yuri was still his girlfriend, and he wanted to speak with her, to apologise.  No matter that Ryan was equally scared of the same prospect, he was right: Yuri was not his property, she was not beholden to him, she was not chained to him.  She was her own person, and he wanted to talk with her about that.  But at the diner?  At work?

“You sure it’s wise that I’m there?” he asked.

“You’re coming,” Ryan declared, bringing the conversation to a close.  “Just stop feeling sorry for yourself and get a move on.”

 

No sooner had Nathan walked though the door than Tiffany quietly and polity pulled him aside.  She escorted him to the bar, where a tentative and anxious Yuri was waiting for him.

“I didn’t think you’d come in today,” she muttered, evidently trying to stop people from overhearing.

“Yuri, I’m so sorry,” he started before the barmaid cut him off.

“No,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“What?  No, Yuri ...”

“I should have realised that you would be hurt by that.  I shouldn’t have just made you shut up about it.”

“No, you were right,” he admitted.  “I should let you have your space and do your thing.”

“But you weren’t stopping me from doing anything,” she consoled him.  “You weren’t stopping me from going to the party, you weren’t even telling me to stay away from Siwon, you were just ... jealous and scared.  And you admitted that.”

“Well, of course I would be.”

“And I shouldn’t have scolded you for that.  You’ve been cheated on, I know.  And I should be more respectful to that.”

He shook his head.

“I get that you have issues to work through, and I’ll be honest with you, that scared me,” she admitted.  “I haven’t dealt with a guy with baggage before.  They’ve all been the free, life-loving guys that haven’t cared about me.  And you care about me a hell of a lot more than all of them combined.  It’s not exactly something I’m used to.  I kind of felt smothered.”

Nathan smiled sheepishly.  “Yuri, you’re right; go to the party.  Enjoy yourself.  Really.  I don’t want to smother you or control you.”

“You’d really be ok with that?  Even with Siwon there?”

“Will you come back to me?” he asked, half-rhetorically.

Yuri blushed.  “Yeah, I’ll come back to you.”

“Then I’ll be ok with it.  As long as we’re still together, I can’t exactly complain, can I?”

She smiled at him and his willingness to accommodate her.  “Let’s go out tomorrow night, just the two of us.  We can go and watch a movie, any movie.  Your choice.”

“Ok ...” he agreed.  “Actually, there is one that I would like to see.”

“What’s that?”

“‘Deadpool’.”

“Oh, you’d love it!” Yuri smiled widely, pushing their

“You-you’ve seen it already?”

She nodded.  “Hyoyeon downloaded it for me.”

“Oh ...”

“Oh, I’m sorry babe,” she pouted, genuinely upset for disappointing him.  “But sure, we can go and watch it at the pictures.”

“Even though you’ve already seen it?”

She shrugged.  “I’ve seen it on a little laptop screen.  It’ll be much different on the big screen of a cinema.”

“And with the sound too.”

“And the company,” she added flirtatiously.

He smiled at her.  “So you’re not upset with me?”

She shook her head.  “No, I get it.  I thought about it, I talked with the girls about it ... I understand now. It’s still a little strange, but I get it.  That night, at the bar ... I felt trapped.”

He nodded.  “I know, and I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“And I don’t want you feeling insecure or second best,” she patted his arm.  “You’re my boyfriend.  If anything changes, I’ll make sure to tell you.”

He smiled, placated by her response.  She really did understand how he felt.  He really did feel second best.  Not specifically with her, but in life in general.  He was never good enough for a lot of people, and girlfriends were no exception.  Yuri realised this, and he was grateful.  Her willingness to see the film she had already seen solely for his benefit made him feel important in that moment.

Maybe he did mean something to her.

 

~~~

 

“Babe, where are you?” Ryan called, entering into his apartment.  He had given Sunny a spare key to his home, at her request and with the promise of a meal that he would love.  It was nice of her to offer, and a night where he didn’t have to cook was always welcome.  That being said, he was hoping for something more.  Still, it was a start.

“I’m in the kitchen!” she called.  The lights were on in the hallway, but the rest of his apartment was covered with candles and tea lights of all sorts of shapes and sizes.  The light and warmth they gave off was incredible.

“Wow,” he exclaimed as he looked around.  “That looks so different.”

Sunny stood there, her cute black and white polka dot dress flowing around her thighs, her arms held behind her back.  “It’s just something small,” she smiled bashfully.

He walked towards his hostess and hugged her.  It didn’t seem peculiar that Sunny was the hostess in his own apartment.  It was just his girlfriend cooking a romantic meal.  Although the candles were excessive.  He said nothing to her, keeping her pride intact.

“Shall we eat?” she asked, gesturing to the meal set out for them both: steak with potato wedges and a side salad.

Ryan thought back to the times at home with his parents.  Nothing could ever beat a good home cooked steak, he remembered, taking his seat at the table.

"Wine?" Sunny asked, turning to fridge to take out the chilled bottle of red wine.

"I'd love a beer," Ryan smiled, already tucking in to his meal.

Sunny smiled, reaching up to get the bottle of cold beer from the upper shelf.  Today was a good day to choose heels, she nodded, grateful for the extra inches they afforded her.  She moved to the side and opened the cupboard where Ryan kept his glasses.

"It's fine out of the bottle, babe," he answered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, that's how I usually drink it anyway."

Sunny kept her bright demeanour, lifting the bottle opener from the hook on the wall, taking the cap from the bottle and handing its carbonated amber contents to her guest for the evening.

"It looks delicious," Ryan declared, picking up his knife to cut the meat.

"I wasn't sure how you ate your steak," she confessed, "so I might have …"

"Overcooked it?" he interrupted, looking at the steak.

She lowered her head and nodded, blushing at her embarrassment.

"Yeah … I like my steaks pretty rare."

"Rare?"

He nodded and smiled.  "I like a lot of the blood to be coming out."

Sunny's face contorted at the idea of blood coming from her meat.  She wasn't naïve enough to say meat didn't come from animals, but she preferred hers to be less bloody.  "I'm sorry," she apologised.

"No, it's fine," he dismissed her concerns with a bite of the cooked piece of meat.  "Still edible."

She smiled weakly, dismayed that her attempt of a romantic meal from his homeland was summarised with those two words: “still edible”.  True to her nature, she kept that disappointment inside.  It was edible, and quite delicious if she said so herself.  Besides, there were a lot of different ways to cook steaks.  It wasn't her fault that she didn't know how he liked it, and she wanted to surprise him, so she couldn't exactly ask him how he liked it cooked.

Nevertheless, he ate heartily and with no more complaints.  To follow from their steak dinner, Sunny had even prepared a vanilla cheesecake.  Which Ryan had refused, since he didn't eat cheesecake.  "Worst thing ever invented," he proclaimed, "cheese in desert.  Whoever thought to put those two things together?"  Still, different people had different culinary tastes, and Sunny just had to learn about Ryan's over time.  It wasn't the end of the world.

Besides, her hard work had paid off over the last few weeks.  Now, she was ready to show off her dancing prowess.  She had learned all she could from Hyoyeon, she had rehearsed, she had put her all into this.  Now, she was going to wow her boyfriend and make him forget all about these pop stars that he desired.

"What's all this for?" he asked as she led him to the sofa.

"Just to say thank you for everything you've done for me."

He shrugged and took his place on the sofa as Sunny selected her playlist from her iPod; American pop music designed to bring an element of seduction to their evening. She had spent an entire evening with Tiffany, Hyoyeon and Sooyoung choosing the right mood music.  She wanted to slow walk him to her routine, lower his inhibitions and his resistance before giving him her presentation.  As the seductive notes played through the silence, she took her place next to him on the sofa and cuddled with him.

“Nice tunes,” he approved nonchalantly.

She smiled, cuddling with him.  “Actually,” she confessed, “I have something for you.”

“For me?”

Sunny nodded.  “You remember what you said at that party?”

Ryan sighed.

“No, I didn’t mean that.  Just … I thought I would … practice … dancing for you.”

“What?”

Sunny got up and stood with her iPod and changed the music and the opening sultry sounds of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good”, remixed by some obscure DJ, played through the empty apartment as she took her position in the middle of the room.  She remembered the advice from her friend.

Don’t touch him.  Don’t touch yourself.  Feel the music.  Feel the rhythm.  Feel the bass.

Play with him.  Play with his eyes.  .  Make him want more.

Make him want you.

She danced through the big band section of the song with the poise and grace of someone from the 60s, with fluidity and ease of a well-trained dancer, pushing through her nerves.  The seamless transition to the electric section saw her moves become sharper, more attuned, yet they still kept their inherent seductiveness, the sultry motions and the magnetism she had planned.  She pushed through her anxieties and channelled her energy into her performance.  She used the fedora she had loaned from Hyoyeon, the black fabric enhancing her performance, giving her the mysterious sensuality she yearned to show.

She focused on her routine, remembering each move, keeping to the groove and the rhythm of the music.  Her thighs and her arms locked into place at the right moment, her hips swayed on cue, until the ending trail of the saxophone, fading out, allowing her to leave him waiting there, craving her, feeding his desire, feasting on her beauty and her uality.

“What was that?” he asked perplexed.

Or not, apparently.

Sunny was floored by his comment.  “I … I thought … I mean …”

“Why did you show me that .. dance?”

She looked at him and saw genuine confusion on his face.

“Is this for a talent show somewhere?”

“N-n-no … you said … you wanted a dancer …”

“What?  When?”

Now it was her turn to be confused.  “At … at the party.”  She took off the fedora and laid it next to her iPod.  “You said you wanted someone who could dance.”

He closed his eyes and sighed.  “Sunny …”

“No, I’m not mad at it,” she kneeled next to him, almost pleading with him to appreciate her efforts.  “I meant, I wanted to be your dancer.  I … I thought … maybe you’d … enjoy it.  I know how much you like Shakira and Jennifer Lopez and those kind of girls, so …”

“But you’re not like them.”

“I know, but …”

“No … what I mean is, the way they dance is way above how you dance.  It was a nice thing you did, and … you know what, thanks.  But …” he shook his head, “it didn’t do … anything for me.”

“Oh …” she looked away, total and abject humiliation flooding her veins.  “I thought …”

“I’m sorry.”

She laughed nervously and shook her head.  “No, it’s ok,” she smiled, outwardly dismissing his comments.  “I guess … I guess they do dance differently.”

“It was nice …”

She nodded.  “I know … I just thought you’d like it …”

“I did, I guess,” he smiled at her.  “It wasn’t bad.”

She looked at him sheepishly, ignoring the voices that reminded her of the time and energy she had put into this.  The nerves she had overcome to get her willing to dance in front of him.  The anxieties she had faced just to ask Hyoyeon for help, the shame she felt asking Tiffany for help to choose the music for the evening.  All of her friends were supportive of her and encouraged her to put on the performance they knew she could.  And he thought it “wasn’t bad”?

“Come here,” he held his arm open for her.  “It was cute, but let’s forget about it, ok?”

She smiled and lay in his arm.  “I guess I’m not cut out to be a dancer, am I,” she laughed, degrading and demeaning her own presentation.

“Probably not,” he laughed.  “But you’re still beautiful, and you tried.”

She nodded and vowed not to make the mistake of trying again.