Whatever I Want
Bastard
Ever since the conference, higher expectations are given to the two. With promising results from the serum project, Yi Fan has eased up on Mei Lin after seeing his mother smile at the slowing progression of her disease. “What does it even do?” Yi Fan had asked.
“The serum is literally rewriting her DNA, changing her genes,” Mei Lin had said. “It’s complicated and I would hate to put you to sleep before noon. If this works, I can only promise that we can slow and hopefully even stop the progression, but it will not repair the degeneration…That’ll take a whole other approach.”
Yi Fan smiles a bit more now, enough to encourage Mei Lin to tease back with witty remarks to Yi Fan’s jabs. Though it’s not safe to say that the two are friends, it is safe to say that they are on better terms than they were before. Neither of them questions the shift in atmosphere but that doesn’t stop the rest of the floors from wondering, though no one is brave enough to ask in fear of tipping this newfound peace. Even Gale doesn’t dare to prod the subject, not even when the weather changes from hot to less hot.
By that time, Henry comes to work greeted by smiles and bows. Today is a special day for Henry and all those whom appreciate him. Today is an excuse to show that appreciation. Even though the party isn’t until later that night, there are already presents waiting for Henry in his office, half of which he’s sure are from Bai Fu, who is more than grateful to still have her job.
At the very bottom of the pile that dominates his small glass coffee table is a thin but heavy block wrapped in plain white tissue paper and topped with a satin white ribbon. He undoes the ribbon and peels away at the three layers of thin white tissue paper. The covers are smooth and heavy, made of thick black cardboard an eighth of an inch thick. They’re attached together by a strip of sturdy fabric suitable for military gear that hides and protects the thick metal binding, which is as pitch black as the covers. Henry opens the book and feels the thick ivory sheets, which could pass for thin cardstock. The staffs are boldly printed on each page with ample room in between for notes and lyrics. A built in bookmark is attached to the cloth binding, one made from smooth black satin.
Henry flips it to the first page and as expected, the page is blank with the exception of a faint treble cleft watermark and the words: “This journal belongs to Henry Lau” written in bleeding script. He takes a moment to admire the cover, which is very plain save for the shallow indents of what appears to be a piano music sheet sprinkled with random notes. It continues onto the inside of the cover as well as the back cover and that’s when Henry realized that the notes are not random, but rather display an arrangement of Beethoven’s Für Elise. The inside of the back cover features a pocket for whatever loose notes Henry might have.
This is custom. Henry leaves his office to go thank Mei Lin personally but she is nowhere to be found on the thirty-sixth floor. With many “Happy Birthday"s along the way, Henry finally finds Mei Lin in the Finance Department after Victoria pointed him in the right direction. “Mei!”
Mei Lin jumps at her name and excuses herself from her brief update with Su Ho. “Nǐ xiǎng yào shén me?” Mei Lin whines, half annoyed. I don’t care if he’s the birthday boy, calling me out like that is uncalled for. I have a phone and it’s not like you don’t have a GPS on it.
The Finance Department is appalled at the tone and informality but given that the two are equal in terms of titles, it’s somewhat understandable. But surely Mei Lin would be a bit more respectful towards someone who is her senior and definitely towards someone who's lived another year. Mei Lin nearly runs towards Henry with purposeful stomps but he stops her with a single finger on her forehead. When she stops instantly at the contact like he had known she would, Henry puts both of his hands in his pant pockets before smiling and saying thank you.
Mei Lin stares blankly at her friend for a moment. “That’s it?” Mei Lin asks. “You made a scene just to tell me something that would’ve taken you less than ten seconds to text?” She rolls her eyes and leaves the golden boy laughing to himself as she continues her daily trek throughout the building not only for herself, but also for her boss. “Victoria,” Mei Lin says when she’s back on the thirty-sixth floor. “I need you to proof-read the files I sent you and make the indicated number of copies. And please deliver the ones that need to be delivered and file away those that need to be stored away. Thank you!”
Even though Victoria is technically Mei Lin’s secretary, she is never asked to do more than what is expected of her. Only when Mei Lin doesn’t have the time to do the work herself does she ask Victoria to do it. She has yet to ask Victoria to get her a cup of coffee or her dry cleaning and she never plans to. I refuse to be like Yi Fan.
Between enabling Yi Fan to do his job and doing her best to keep up with hers, Mei Lin is surprised to find that she’s still able to get a decent amount of sleep. What Henry finds in his office is a bit different however: it’s Yi Fan sitting on his chair with Henry’s new music notebook in his hands.
“Now I may not know her very well, but even I know this is her handwriting,” Yi Fan says with the first page opened. “You were a musical show-off even back then, huh?”
“It’s not showing off if they ask for the show,” Henry says, waiting for Yi Fan to put down the book. He doesn’t, but rather plays with it by holding it in his hand while twisting his wrist like one would do to a doorknob. “Can I help you with something, Kevin?”
“No, but you could do something,” Yi Fan says, throwing the book down on the desk. “You could stay away from my secretary.” Yi Fan literally stares down Henry. This is not just a threat; it is a promise that Henry will regret his decisions otherwise. Henry swallows, remembering Yi Fan to have only been like this once before when a fellow classmate had the balls to insult his mother. When he knows for sure that his message has been sent loud and clear, Yi Fan stands up and tosses Henry a box. “Happy Birthday,” Yi Fan says in a monotone voice. “You’re one year closer to death.” He walks from behind the desk and passes Henry with an intentional brush on their shoulders that almost knock Henry to the ground before leaving.
Bai Fu pokes her head in; unaware of the fact that Yi Fan was even in her boss’ office. “You’re lucky it’s my birthday,” Henry says while brushing himself off. “Or else I would’ve fired you for letting that man in here without my knowledge.”
He takes a seat on the couch after Bai Fu excuses herself. He undoes the tightly knotted ribbon with a pair of scissors and opens the small box to find a sleek black a silver metal picture frame that could house a four by six picture. I say could because the frame is empty except for a note that says (in Yi Fan’s horrid handwriting): “Enjoy the brief period where you are two years older, shorty.”
Henry chuckles at the comment and removes the note. It turns out that the note is actually written on the back of a picture of Yi Fan glaring unforgivingly into the shot. He tosses the picture in his drawer and reminds himself to find the old photo albums he had manage to save from back in the day. Or maybe I can convince her to pose for a more recent photo. If not, I could trick her. He can’t say anything about being close to her picture, can he?
Yi Fan returns to his office and finds Mei Lin setting down a tray of tea. He takes a seat on one of the couches and Mei Lin hands him a cup and saucer of green tea. “What are you doing?” Yi Fan asks when Mei Lin stands beside him with her tablet.
“Hm?” Mei Lin asks, not looking up.
“There’s two cups for a reason, Mei,” Yi Fan says.
Mei Lin looks up with her brow pulled in puzzlement. “Uh—”
“Sit down already, Mei; you’re making me anxious,” Yi Fan says, taking a sip.
Mei Lin logs off her tablet and sits down in the other couch awkwardly after pouring herself a cup of tea. She blows on it lightly before taking a sip. Her movements are stiff under the watch of Yi Fan’s eyes. “Did you want to talk about something, sir?” Mei Lin asks.
“No,” Yi Fan said plainly.
He continues to stare at her as she tries her best to find a place to fix her glance. Mei Lin clears and sets down her tea, “I should get back to—”
“Stay,” Yi Fan orders. Mei Lin sits back down and stares at the silverware. “Lau’s party tonight,” he finally says. “Don’t go.”
“Sir?” Who the hell does he think he is, telling what not to do with my personal life?
“You’re coming with me to see my mother tonight,” Yi Fan says. “She should meet the young lady responsible for giving her some hope.”
Who is Mei Lin to refuse something like that? So while they’re in the car together in the backseat, Mei Lin’s phone vibrates with a text asking where she is. Mei Lin ignores Henry’s text as they arrive at the hospital. Some of the doctors and guards exchange looks at the sight of Mei Lin, still remembering the incident two and a half months ago. Yi Fan doesn’t pay mind to these stares and continues his way to his mother’s room.
There’s a significantly lower amount of flowers in the room but a few pink orchids are still by the window and at her bedside. Mrs. Wu smiles at the sight of her son but it stiffens at the sight of Mei Lin who bows upon entrance. The two exchange words while Mei Lin stands by the door awkwardly with the straps of her bag wrapped by her fingers.
“Ms. Chen,” Mrs. Wu says. Mei Lin looks up and keeps a blank expression. “I understand you are the one who convinced my son to come visit.”
“Uh—”
“Ma!”
Mei Lin brings her right fingers to her lips in attempt to cover the escaping laugh. Somehow, Yi Fan looks three feet shorter and twenty years younger in the presence of his mother, but maybe that’s because he’s sitting. As Mrs. Wu is trying to sooth her son down from the possible embarrassment she’s sure to cause, Mei Lin recomposes herself. Yi Fan almost looks human with his mother’s hand on his head and his voice almost jumping half an octave. Those sharp eyes seem to have been dulled and may even come across as soft if one got the chance to look into them long enough. Having changed into a casual t-shirt and fitted jeans with no product in his blond locks, Yi Fan is much less intimidating and might even be mistaken for welcoming.
“If this works, at the very least, it will give me a few more years,” Mrs. Wu explains to her son. She looks up at Mei Lin who meets her eyes. “Thank you.”
Mei Lin is about to open when Yi Fan cuts her off again. “She’s just doing her job,” he says coolly. “How about you go get us something to drink?”
“She’s off the clock, is she not?” Mrs. Wu asks, slightly appalled by her son’s rude behavior. She even finds the strength to lightly hit the back of his head a bit, to which Yi Fan exaggerates the pain. “Is this how you treat the young lady that’s saving your mother’s life?” Mei Lin snickers a bit before bowing and leaving to get the two some tea. “I hear the Kwons are very pleased with the company and we are now partners,” Mrs. Wu says once Mei Lin leaves. “I also hear it’s because of her.” Yi Fan lets out a sigh, knowing where his mother is going with this lecture. “You should show her a bit more respect, or at least spare her of whatever it is you’re trying to prove to your father and fire her.”
I guess she hasn’t heard how I’m actually doing what the old man wants now, Yi Fan sighs.
“But enough of that,” Mrs. Wu says, seeing how tired her son is getting. “Will I see grandchildren before I leave this world?”
“Ma!” Yi Fan isn’t sure which part of that question he finds more disturbing.
“I hear the Kwons have a lovely daughter,” Mrs. Wu says. “She’s quite a catch you know.”
Yi Fan refuses to give his mother the satisfaction of a reaction to such a suggestion. It’s bad enough that his entire career is mapped out for him, but to force him into a marriage all for the sake of business to crossing the very thick line.
“You’re going to be twenty-eight this year, son,” Mrs. Wu says. “Please—”
Mei Lin knocks and pokes her head in with two cups of steaming tea. “Duì bù qǐ,” she says. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Yi Fan says, getting up and grabbing his jacket.
“Think about it,” Mrs. Wu says as they leave.
The annoyed look in his eyes tells Mei Lin not to question what had happened while she was gone but when the tension could be cut with a diamond knife while they were in the car, Mei Lin decides to test her luck and asks, “What did your mother want you to think about?”
“Marriage,” Yi Fan grumbles in a low voice.
The same look of unexpected shock jolts on both Zi Tao and Mei Lin’s face, causing the car to jerk at the red light as well. “What?” they ask in unison. The very thought of Yi Fan being tied down is not only amusing but humiliating to one with such pride.
“To whom?” Mei Lin asks. Surely it’s been over a decade since Mei Lin has been in the country but even more surely, arranged marriages are now not of the norm, right? Just how tightly do they have that leash?
“Ms. Kwon,” Yi Fan sighs, mentally shuddering at the thought. It’s not that she’s not beautiful and whatnot. In fact, Yi Fan is pretty sure she’s a somewhat decent person should he be given the chance to find out with no strings attached. It’s simply the principle of it all that bothers Yi Fan. “Eyes on the road, Tao. The light’s green.”
“Sir?” Mei Lin asks.
“This is ing bull,” he mumbles to himself.
“You’re not going to—”
“Not even in your dreams,” Yi Fan hisses.
“I don’t dream about you, sir,” Mei Lin says in attempt to get Yi Fan to laugh. “Please, don’t flatter yourself.”
Yi Fan doesn’t laugh but bits of it slip through a smirk. “So tell me, Mei Lin,” he says, “what do you dream about?”
Mei Lin flinches at the use of her full name. Only her parents and family call her that. “Why would I tell you such a ridiculous thing?” she asks as they arrive at her apartment complex. She shifts to leave but the doors lock.
“Because you’re not leaving this car until you do,” Yi Fan says, teasing the poor girl.
Zi Tao smirks at the glare that he’s given. He gets out of the car to give the couple some privacy as well as to grab a smoke. “You’re a child sometimes,” Mei Lin sighs, blowing the few stands away from her eyes, “even without your mother around.”
Yi Fan unbuckles and slams his hand against the glass in one swift move, encasing Mei Lin against the seats. Mei Lin shrinks down a bit at the proximity, but also because of the cold, unmoving stare that’s pinning her eyes still. “If there is one thing that you take away from your experience with me,” Yi Fan says evenly, “it’s that you never speak of my mother.”
“Y-yes…sir…” Mei Lin can’t remember the last time she was this terrified other than when she accidentally broke Henry’s violin bow. At least then she felt sorry enough to cry, right now, she’s just plain terrified. “I’m-I’m sorry.”
Yi Fan examines the frightened thing under him a bit longer before backing away slowly. Mei Lin lets out the breath she was holding in a shaking manner, still too shaken up to attempt to leave the car. Zi Tao finishes his cigarette and stomps it out with the toes of his shoe. Even though he had heard a thump against the glass, Zi Tao waits for the usual signal of two taps. I wonder if he’s finally having with his secretary. Zi Tao chuckles to himself at the thought and take this time to check his phone. Maybe that’ll loosen them both up a bit. I’ll give them another fifteen minutes.
They sit in silence as Yi Fan tries to calm down and Mei Lin is attempting to recompose herself. “I don’t dream,” Mei Lin finally says, looking at her hands. “Not while sleeping, at least. If I do, then I don’t ever recall any.”
“So what do you daydream about?” Yi Fan asks, his voice still firm and unyielding.
“Does it matter?” Mei Lin asks, looking at her boss. “All you have to gain by me telling you is…well, you might learn a bit more about me as a person, but does that really matter?”
“Why wouldn’t it matter?”
“So long as I do my job, why does it matter what type of person I am?” Mei Lin asks.
“Is that what you tell everyone else when they talk behind my back?” Yi Fan asks, now looking directly at Mei Lin. Mei Lin bites her lower lip a bit as she tries to figure out what to say. Yi Fan lets out a small laugh. “You never came across to me as the type who wouldn’t care about the process and only care about the results.”
“Thank you?” Mei Lin is confused.
“You care too much to not care how things are done,” Yi Fan says, looking up at the low ceiling of the car. The flinch seen from the corner of his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re getting comfortable; what’s making you think that I won’t just fire you in the next ten seconds?”
“You might be an sometimes but you’re not a bad person,” Mei Lin says. “Besides, I’ve lasted more than twice as long as any of your other secretaries. I don’t think anyone would accept it if you fired me without good reason, not even yourself.”
“So, you care too much and you assume the good in people,” Yi Fan concludes. Interesting. Mei Lin flinches again at the familiar words. “Why are you helping me so selflessly?”
“I wouldn’t call it selfless, seeing how I got a promotion because of my actions,” Mei Lin argues. “And I’m not helping you directly; I’m helping your mother.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Yi Fan asks, narrowing his sharp eyes to make them sharper.
“I’m not telling you a lot of things, but none of those are really relevant,” Mei Lin says. “But if you want the truth, I thought that helping your mother would in turn help you. You care for her even though you’re reluctant to show it and her declining health is taking a toll on you—”
“How would you know?” Yi Fan cuts in harshly.
“Sir, I’m not blind,” Mei Lin says, lowering her voice.
Yi Fan lowers his shoulder a bit to let everything sink in. The thought that someone would know such things about him—know such vulnerabilities—is unsettling. “How much do you know?” Yi Fan asks, not meeting Mei Lin’s eyes. The softer voice worries Mei Lin because it lacks the confidence that it usually wears.
“I know that out of your parents, you’re closer with your mother; not sure of the reason though. I know that you tend to be self-destructive when you’re…stressed. Namely when you don’t or are not in control of certain aspects of your life. That usually means es or drinking—”
“And you’re okay with that?” Yi Fan asks with a dark chuckle.
No, I’m not. “My opinion doesn’t matter,” Mei Lin says.
“Sure it does,” Yi Fan lies, though it’s not really a lie.
“It’s not my place to say anything or tell you how to live your life. You have enough people doing that,” Mei Lin says. “I know you’re not a complete and just like being one because it’s easier—”
“Who told you that?” Yi Fan asks, troubled by how accurate that feels.
“I just assumed,” Mei Lin says honestly. “Who could’ve told me that?”
“The birthday boy,” Yi Fan finds himself saying. A silence falls between them but oddly enough, it’s not awkward as one would suspect.
“Why do you hate him?” Mei Lin asks suddenly. “I know you two went to study abroad together in Canada, but, if you don’t mind me asking, sir, what happened?”
“You should ask him,” Yi Fan says, not wanting to tell her himself. “What else do you know?”
Mei Lin thinks about this for a moment. “I know that you’re not happy, not truly at least. I mean, how could you be with everything that’s been thrown at you?”
“So what are you going to do about it?” Yi Fan asks jokingly. Happiness has never really been a goal for Yi Fan. He puts that in the same category as ancient gods and princesses; they’re myths and fairy tales. Unfortunately, his life has been focused on not being completely miserable.
“Do you want me to do something about it?” Mei Lin asks. “My job is to make yours easier; would being happy make your life easier? And if so, how can I do that?”
Yi Fan smiles at the trifecta of questions, genuinely smiles. Mei Lin sits up a bit at the sight and takes a mental picture, blinking her eyes as if to capture the moment. No one’s ever asked Yi Fan if he wanted to be happy; everyone just always assumes that he is; that he has to be. What could the son of a multi-million dollar corporation have to be unhappy about? What people don’t tend to realize is that rich people have problems and issues too. And what’s worse is that they tend to be more stressful than one would think because there’s the added pressure and the lack of an excuse.
“I honestly don’t know,” Yi Fan says. “I guess.”
“So what do you need me to do?” Mei Lin asks.
“Convince me that this is something that I should be doing,” Yi Fan says, looking human for once. “My whole life has been about nothing but this company and I am not happy. Unfortunately, I know of nothing else.”
Yi Fan watches as Mei Lin thinks, the backs of her eyes flickering with ideas, thoughts, and analyzation. “You told me that I shouldn’t be telling you what to do,” Mei Lin says. “You’re my boss, remember? Not the other way around. Besides, aren’t you tired of having people tell you what to do? Isn’t that why you enjoy toying with your secretary? Seeing how they’re the only ones you have complete control over?”
“Humor me,” Yi Fan says.
“I can’t convince you to do something that doesn’t make you happy,” Mei Lin says. “But to be honest, sir, you haven’t exactly tried to do it. If you want this to work, then you’re going to have to change your mindset about it. But let me ask you, if you weren’t going to take over the company, what would you do?”
“So we’re talking about my dreams now?” Yi Fan asks, laughing slightly again.
“If you want.”
“I don’t know,” Yi Fan sighs. “All I’ve ever done is related to this company.”
“That’s a bit sad,” Mei Lin says to herself. “No hobbies?”
“I liked playing basketball in grades school,” Yi Fan says, smiling genuinely again.
“Is that why you’re so tall?” Mei Lin jokes.
“Maybe I just drank my milk and ate my vegetables,” Yi Fan teases.
“Or maybe it’s genetics; your mother seems fairly tall.” Mei Lin watches Yi Fan’s face. This is the second time that Mei Lin has mentioned Yi Fan’s mother in some type of fashion after he clearly told her not to do so, and yet, Yi Fan doesn’t seem offended. “So, what you’re telling me is that I would still see you on TV, but just on a different channel?” Mei Lin teases, keeping the mood light.
“It’s just a hobby,” Yi Fan says. “Not one that I get to enjoy very often anymore.” He pauses a bit and even under that motionless mask, there’s a frown. “What about you? Any hobbies?”
“Uh…”
“Come on, Mei,” Yi Fan says with a smirk. “What do you do for fun? Don’t tell me you’re nothing but a workaholic.”
“Then I won’t tell you,” Mei Lin lies. “Weren’t we talking about you?”
“Then talk.”
“What do you like doing?” Mei Lin asks. “Besides women.”
Yi Fan throws her a stabbing glare, but Mei Lin doesn’t flinch because she’s chuckling herself. “I like winning,” he simply put.
“Example?”
Yi Fan smirks, “Bets with Lau.”
“Oh?” Yi Fan throws his eyes on Mei Lin and raises an eyebrow, which she can’t see under his bangs. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to ask him about this too?” Mei Lin asks. “I don’t see why you wouldn’t tell me about how you one-upped Hin Wah. You seem like the type to brag if you can, especially if it’s about Hin Wah.”
“We went on a walk once to the park,” Yi Fan says after a pause. He ignores Mei Lin’s look of surprise and continues with a wave of his hand. “Shy girls would approach him and myself and after a while, we started counting. He insisted that he’s more approachable but that’s only because we started counting after most of them were there to ask about me.” Mei Lin wonders about the truth (if any) behind that. “So we made a bet the next day for our walk. Loser had to buy the other dinner.” Yi Fan stops to smirk at the memory. “That little cheater brought a puppy with him, claiming that his friend needed a favor. Bull,” Yi Fan looks in the other direction as if recalling everything. “I still won.”
Mei Lin pulls her knuckles to her lips to keep from laughing or making any inappropriate expressions, though she can’t help but agree with Henry that he’s certainly more approachable. There’s just something about Yi Fan’s eyes that makes you want to take a step back and hold your tongue. It’s not that his features are not appealing, they simply just aren’t as inviting.
Yi Fan sighs and reels Mei Lin back to reality. “You should go,” he says, looking out the tinted window. “It’s getting late.”
Mei Lin gets out of the car and bows before making her way into her apartment. What confuses Zi Tao is Mei Lin’s kempt hair and Yi Fan’s lack of wrinkles in his shirt. “What did you two talk about?” Zi Tao asks, knowing that he won’t get a straight answer. They sure weren’t doing anything else.
“Bets and happiness,” Yi Fan says. Zi Tao isn’t sure if he should take that answer seriously but he nonetheless drives Yi Fan home. “Make a right.”
“But—” Yi Fan glares into the rearview mirror and Zi Tao quickly pushes his lips together and complies. “Where are we going, duì zhǎng?”
“To crash the shorty’s party,” Yi Fan smirks.
They arrive at a club donning neon lights and tinted glass. Yi Fan walks in and the music almost stops. Henry looks up from the booth he’s sitting in to see what the lack of commotion is about. He looks right past Yi Fan in hopes that Mei Lin had been following him like she always is. “Excuse me,” Henry says to the young ladies that he was sitting with. “You here to give me another present?”
“In your dreams, shorty.”
“Then let me give you one,” Henry shouts over the music. He points to the booth that he had been sitting in. “Mind taking them off my hands?”
“Why? Bored already? You know, Lau, you’re not as perfect as everyone thinks you are.” Yi Fan starts to walk in the direction of the booth with Henry behind him. “You’re too picky.”
“No,” Henry disagrees. “I just don’t have wandering eyes.” He gives the blond a pat on the shoulder and walks off in a different direction. Yi Fan turns around to ask a follow-up question, but Henry was already out of the building.
He’s about to get into his car when Mei Lin walks down the street. “Leaving so soon?” Mei Lin asks, catching his attention just as he’s about to slip into the backseat. “Are you allowed to do that? This is your party after all.”
“I can do whatever I want,” Henry replies, crossing his arms on the rim of the car door.
“You sound like Yi Fan,” Mei Lin says. Henry frowns dramatically and puts on a look of insulted, which prompts Mei Lin to crack in laughter. “So where are you off to?”
“Where are you off to?” Henry asks, noting Mei Lin’s short skirt and hugging top. “Hot date tonight?”
“I hope so,” Mei Lin smirks.
“Oh?” Henry steps from behind the door and closes it behind him. He tests Mei Lin’s comfort by walking casually closer to her, slowly stepping to see exactly when she would flinch. Henry stops less than a quarter meter from Mei Lin and she still has yet to break eye contact. Henry leans down a bit to her level and still Mei Lin does not budge. He quickly stands up straight and looks down on his friend. This causes Mei Lin to tilt her head in silent question. “You know,” Henry says, “he told me to stay away from you.”
Mei Lin lets out a laugh while bringing her hand up near her face to brush back her long bangs. “And you’re going to listen to him?” Mei Lin asks. “I thought you could do whatever you wanted.”
“Not completely,” Henry says, playing along.
“Oh?” Now it’s Mei Lin’s turn to step closer. She leans forward and compensates for the height loss by standing on her tiptoes so that she’s right under Henry’s eyes. “So what can my big brother not do?”
Henry looks up and around, as if he were truly thinking about this, before meeting Mei Lin’s eyes. They stand there with Mei Lin rocking back and forth on her feet and Henry’s head twisted to get a better look at Mei Lin’s childish behavior. The couple doesn’t even notice that the club doors had opened and that Bai Fu is now standing there in search of her boss after Yi Fan had told her that he had left. She did not expect to find him still in front of the building, and of course, with Mei Lin nonetheless. It looks as if the two are having a silent conversation with their eyes, one that Bai Fu wishes to interrupt but she knows that she surely would not have a job anymore had she done so. She can’t help but feel saddened by all of this though. Not because Henry is clearly more interested in Mei Lin, but because Bai Fu was the one who had planned this birthday party for her boss and he didn’t enjoy himself enough to stay.
“Shall we?” Henry asks, ending their silent conversation. Mei Lin’s smile is all that he needed to see.
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