Getting to sleep was difficult that night. Brian hadn’t seen Her dance and when he’d eventually settled in bed, he’d been unable to think about anything but Her. Though, of course, she wasn’t called Her. Her name was Yuki. Yet to Brian she would always be Her. It was more sublime, more ethereal, more fitting.
It was more Her.
Brian got up with the sun. He’d just been lying there, dreaming about the coffee date, playing out different ways it could go—things he’d mess up, phrases that’d spill out wrong, apologies he’d have to make as way of clarification:
“I can’t believe this is actually happening, in many ways I’ve been dreaming about this since I first saw you … I mean figuratively, I’m not actually dreaming about you, I’m not obsessed or anything … That came out wrong. I’m saying you’re nice and I’m lucky to be dating you … not that we’re dating but—”
Fuck! Brian didn’t know what to say to women. He barely knew what to say to men. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered how he’d been with Cynthia for so long. Because you were a bloody doormat, mate. You let her walk all over you. Nah, that wasn’t quite right. He’d let a few things slide and true, it had been her infidelity that had officially finished things, but you didn’t end a beautiful relationship because of one mistake, not if you had any sense. Humans err, it’s what we’re prone to do, and Brian and Cynthia had erred multiple times for months. Doormat … that was some bullshit the twats at work had come out with because he refused to treat his partners like dirt. The HR Manager, Gary Holden, had been the worst: “treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen, mate.” Brian had seen the bruises on Gary’s wife and he wasn’t interested in his ‘life advice’. Only thing Gary was good at was being a cunt.
Brian went on this way for much of the morning, thinking about Her and past relationships, about moulding his future into something better than days past. He tried watching more Black Mirror, then tried reading some fiction online, but couldn’t get into anything—his mind abuzz. Truth be told, he wanted to ring Her there and then and ask if she was up for that coffee. But he couldn’t be too eager. Didn’t want to appear desperate or creepy.
You’re a peeper, you are creepy, embrace it.
He wouldn’t embrace it. Matter of fact, maybe he’d drive back to Wilko and buy some filler for that hole in the wall, start making some changes for the better. If she ever found out about what he’d done he could kiss goodbye to a friendly relationship with her, let alone a romantic one.
In the end Brian didn’t drive to Wilko, but he didn’t look through the hole either, so he was taking small steps in the right direction. If you feel proud for not perving on someone for a couple of hours, you should probably kill yourself. Brian brushed the thought aside. Whatever. He was doing well.
He’d call Yuki at seven. Any earlier would be too soon, any later and it might disrupt her evening. Hell, if he got lucky maybe she’d demand they go immediately. Yeah, that will never happen.
Mid-afternoon the apartment doorbell rang. He looked through the peephole expecting to see cold callers peddling religion or cleaning services.
But he saw Her.
He didn’t answer straight away. Instead, rushing to the bathroom to check his hair was all right and applying a splash of cologne. He didn’t have much hair but thought it was diligent to ensure the few hairs he had were in place. Once he was satisfied he looked good, or more accurately that he was the right side of average, he opened the door.
“Oh, Yuki!” he said, keeping his cool. “What a wonderful surprise.”
“Hey, Brian.”
God, he liked the sound of his name in her mouth.
She was wearing denim short shorts with a black off-the-shoulder top. The splashes of bare skin were almost too much for Brian to handle. “You didn’t call,” she said, pouting.
Shit, I’ve messed this up before it’s even begun—played the long game like a dickhead when I should have phoned her. Why didn’t I call?
She started laughing. Even her giggles sounded divine. “I’m just playing with you. It’s hardly been twenty-four hours.”
“Exactly!” Brian laughed, too, but it was forced and sounded like a donkey being kicked in the stomach mid-whinny. “Who would call after twenty-four hours … laaaame?” Yuki wasn’t laughing with him. “I mean, I suppose some people would call, but …” He slapped the doorframe, louder than intended, was going for playful but sounded angry. “I’m messing with you, too … got you!”
She didn’t react. Her eyes glanced to the plants. “Well that certainly gives the place a bit of character.”
“Right?” Brian said. “And snake plants also remove all sorts of nastiness from the air. So if there’s any bad juju around here, I’ve got us covered.”
“Bad juju?”
Crap, Brian couldn’t decide whether her smile was jolly or disgusted.
Yuki bent down and touched one of the plants. “Is this even real?”
“Um, I sure hope so.”
“And where’d you get it?”
“Wilko.”
Yuki giggled. God damn it, was the plant a fake? And he was what? A laughing stock?
“A man can buy a faux plant if he wants,” Brian shouted.
Yuki bit down on her lip. “So, anyway, I was thinking, if you’re free, we could get that coffee now.”
“Now …”
“I know it’s awfully sudden, so if you’re busy working we can schedule—”
“Working? I don’t even have a job … Christ, that came out a little off, I mean I have a job but it doesn’t start for a while, and of course there are things to do around the apartment … but bloody hell why not get a coffee, eh? If we don’t get a coffee then what’s the point of coffee houses even existing?”
“For other people to get coffee?”
“Yeah, but … look, give me a few and we’ll get this show on the road.”
They agreed to meet outside in five minutes. Brian closed the door and started whistling as he got ready for the big coffee date. He replayed the conversation in his head—he’d have to get better at this, and fast.
Yuki drove, which Brian didn’t mind, but it felt a bit strange. He expected to be chauffeuring Her, not the other way around.
“So, what kind of work do you do?” he asked.
“Right now, I’m an unemployed dance instructor.”
“Dance? Like ballet?”
“Some, but not as much as I’d like. My sauté is a little weak.”
“Saw Tay? Isn’t that cooking?”
Yuki giggled. “It’s one way to get en pointe. You know, on the tips of your toes?”
“Oh yes. That looks … difficult.”
“It’s a bitch. I prefer just dancing, or what you might call interpretative. Though I can do a mean foxtrot.”
“The only dance move I know is ‘shaking my arse’. I mean, not my arse, I’m not really built for that, but you know what I mean …”
Yuki turned the vehicle into the car park. They were in an area of the town Brian hadn’t explored yet. “Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that style … Shaking my arse.” Brian wasn’t sure if he’d imagined the emphasis or if it was where his head was at. “You don’t mean ‘twerking’, do you?”
Brian laughed.
“Hey, don’t knock it. I’ve taught twerking, and it’s a damn fine workout.”
“You mean people actually take lessons to learn how to twerk?”
“Build it, and they will come. Speaking of which, we’re here.”
Yuki parked, grabbed her small handbag, and stood waiting for Brian to get out of the car, before tapping the remote to lock up. “Here it is, the best coffee house in the world.”
Brian looked at the building, trying to find a name, or some distinguishing mark. There was nothing. “What’s this place called?”
“It doesn’t really have a name, which is why it’s so special.” She held out her arm. “Let’s go inside and grab a table.”
Brian hooked his arm in hers and they walked in together. Here he was, just some average Joe with the most beautiful woman in the world at his side. Brian imagined all the customers were staring at them in awe. Look at Her, so powerful, so exquisite, so otherworldly. And for a brief second, everyone’s eyes were upon them. But once they realised there wasn’t anything special about the two of them, they went back about their business, drinking lattes and eating sandwiches.
But we are special.
The sun was peeking through the clouds, so they found a table on the back patio outside, before returning inside to order their coffees. “So, how’d you find this place?” Brian asked.
“When I first moved in, the movers took their time getting my stuff to me, so I went exploring. I’m not a big fan of the franchise coffee shops. As soon as I saw this place, I knew it was exactly what I was looking for. It’s difficult to explain but sometimes you just feel an instant connection, you know?”
Brian nodded. He knew all right. Oh God, did he know. “There’s another independent in town—”
“With the girl with the pink hair, you mean?”
“Right.”
“Ugh, no way, customer service is non-existent in that place. Pinky’s always on her phone and she even tried to overcharge me.”
Brian didn’t tell Her he thought Lexie was pleasant, or that he remembered her name, or that the used books were a nice touch.
“How long was it until the movers turned up with your things?”
“Three days, and I’ll say, sleeping on the floor is not all it’s cracked up to be, even if it is commonplace back in Japan.”
“That’s insane. Guess I was lucky—all my things arrived the day I moved in. It’s a cool place, though I don’t get why there are so many fish illustrations and sculptures.”
“The fish are definitely weird. The estate agents said they’re going to install the fixtures soon, but I haven’t seen them yet.”
“Fixtures?”
“For the fish torches.”
Brian wrinkled his nose. “Torches? Hmm, and all this time I thought those fish were fountains.”
The barista arrived with their coffees. Brian could get used to coffee shops with table service. He watched as Yuki poured a small amount of cream into her coffee, then added a sprinkle of vanilla, only to top it off with an obscene amount of sugar.
“I like sugar,” she said, when she caught him staring. “Want to know how I keep the weight off?”
“I would never—”
“High metabolism. I’d wager I could eat you under the table.”
“Oh, a challenge? I’m game.”
“You’ll lose. I could have been a competitive eater.”
Brian poured some cream into his coffee. “I’ve never really understood all of that. Seems like an easy way to spend a lot of time in the toilet.”
“Certainly. They train for the competitions, but it’s not like you think.”
Were they really going to talk about eating contests? “So, do you have any job prospects or interviews lined up?”
Yuki shook her head. “You sure you don’t want to talk about how to eat sushi without chewing?” She laughed. “Okay, that’s gross. And no, I don’t, but I haven’t been looking either. I was with the last studio for quite a while, and they had excellent benefits that gave me a little money when I left. But all good things come to an end, so I need to polish my CV and start the search.”
“I don’t know if I could do that.”
“Do what? Be unemployed? Sometimes you have to take the risk. Things weren’t going so well with the studio, so I left whilst the situation was tolerable. Truthfully, I was ready for a change. What kind of work do you do?”
“Medical Records. Well, more of a supervisory position.” He didn’t tell Her it was glorified data input, that he spent most days staring at Microsoft Excel, punctuated with the occasional telephone call, walks to the coffee machine, and shit-talking with colleagues. Maybe the new position would be different. That’s what they’d promised—more responsibility, whatever that meant.
“You get to work from home?”
“I wish, but if that were the case I doubt I’d get much actual work done. Sadly, I have to work in a stuffy office, wear a tie, the whole damn mess.”
“Keep in line, polish your shoes, play office politics. Now that kind of work is definitely not for me.”
“What if they let you dance whilst you worked?”
Yuki laughed. “Now that would be different.”
Now that would be amazing.
They drank two more cups of coffee before Yuki announced it was time to head back. “I’ve got some friends I’m meeting up with later this evening.”
“A hot date?”
“No, Brian, you are my hot date.”
Brian blushed. “Well, thank you.”
“No, thank you. This was fun. At least it was for me, and I hope it was for you, too.”
“Yes, it was a lot of fun. I’ll be honest with you, I’m … um … not very good at talking with women, but I can talk to you.”
Yuki nodded. “I like that.”
They drove back to the apartments, listening to the radio and making small talk. Brian walked Her to her door and lingered outside trying not to feel like a teenager. Yuki took his hands in hers and looked up at him. “I’m so glad you came with me today.”
“Me too.”
“Um, look … I’ll save us both the trouble of being awkward here.” She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed Brian on the corner of his mouth. “I like you. All you have to do is call me. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Once he was inside, Brian rested against his door, heart hammering in his chest. She kissed him. He couldn’t believe it. Sure, it wasn’t a full-on passionate kiss, but it was a nice kiss, a caring kiss. He was a hundred percent positive he wasn’t in the dreaded ‘friend-zone’.
A kiss from Her.
It didn’t seem real.
But it was.
After watching Netflix for what seemed like hours, keeping the volume low so as not to miss her music playing next door, Brian switched the TV off and began getting ready for bed. Whilst brushing his teeth, he thought he heard Her returning home. He turned the tap off and listened. No, she wasn’t home. Must have still been out with her friends. They’d come by earlier to go into town in their car.
Then he heard it again.
A sharp, quick sound, as though someone was snapping their fingers.
He spat out his toothpaste and wiped his hands, listening.
The sound came once more, only it wasn’t coming from next door.
It was from the car park.
Brian walked into the bedroom and over to the window. Street light shone through the blind slats. He leant forward, adjusted the blinds to let more light in and get a better view.
There was a man in the car park.
He had longish hair and a full beard. Though the temperature was mild outside, he wore a thin knitted cardigan, buttoned all the way up to his neck, and dark jeans.
Brian was sure he’d never seen this man before.
The man stood near Yuki’s car, staring up at her apartment. He bent down, his hands running over the concrete. He picked up a small pebble and tossed it at her window.
Was he her ex-boyfriend? She hadn’t mentioned anyone earlier, but then he hadn’t asked about anything like that.
Maybe he was a stalker.
Could he have been the man who’d posted the strange note through Brian’s door? Brian stretched his hands through his thin hair, pulling at the roots. Fuck, what was he supposed to do? What was the right thing to do? Confront the man? Call the police? Brian felt his chest tightening and his throat go dry. He could go outside—he probably should go outside, to get a better reading on the situation. Brian grabbed an old glass of water from the windowsill and downed it to soothe his throat. He nearly spat it back out—it had gone stale and tepid. Brian looked back to the man who quickly turned and started walking away. Brian strained his eyes watching the man, but as soon as he was out of the car park, he disappeared into the night.