Chapter Text
|-Saturday evening. The Capri, 1700 Grand Concourse, the Bronx, New York-|
Lélegezz Kati. Lélegezz... (Breathe Kati. Breathe...) The sound of something hitting the floor is a constant as I try to steady myself. Jesus... That's what T Magazine sent her? I know it's not risque, but god damn, the implication of something can sometimes be more exciting than the actual thing. As I walk, the thumping gets louder. The fact he hasn't once gotten a noise complaint from his neighbors... I reach the door to Met's apartment and knock. I'd be surprised if he hears it. So when the door actually opens...
"Hey, you made it." Met says, his tall frame looming over me like a predator. Good thing he isn't one. The only thing that's a threat here is how loud the music is. Speaking of...
"My life begins at midnight twelve"
"Masturbate to kill myself"
"BLASPHEMER"
Oh... That's just... Wrong...
"What the fuck are you listening to?" It slips out without much thought. And Met looks offended at my question. But it's not Met who gives me an answer.
"DO NOT DISRESPECT SODOM LIKE THAT!" I hear from the kitchen. I guess Met's roommate is in tonight. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever met him. His name is Scott, right? I step into the apartment and see a man with tan skin and long, brown hair. He's tall, but Met still dwarfs him. He's clean shaven, but his arms are covered in tattoos. He then turns to face me, introducing himself without prompting.
"Scott Hall. Pleasure you finally meet you." He says as he turns his attention back to the stove. Whatever Scott's making, it smells nice. Is that paprika he's using? Judging by the smell...Édesnemes? (Sweet?) I walk over and look into the pot.
"Oh, ez gulyás. (Oh, it's goulash.)" I say as I realize what it is. He's not making this because of this, is he?
"Met said you were Hungarian so I thought 'Fuck it. Doesn't look too hard.' I like to think I succeeded." Scott responds, voice nonchalant. I turn to Met, and he just shrugs. He then grabs a ladle and a bowl intent on eating some of the stew, but Scott shots him a dead-eye.
"Not ready yet. Five more minutes." Met then sets the bowl down and heads to the living room, and I follow him. We sit on the couch and immediately, he can tell that something is bothering me. It's that kind of sixth sense some people have. He's also an uma. They have heightened senses naturally. Hearing specifically.
"Somethin wrong?" I hear him ask, voice steady. More steady than I've been for the past few weeks.
"No. Why do you ask?" That was a lie. And he can tell. He can always tell.
"You don't have to hide shit from me, you know that, right?" He prods gently. But I don't answer. I can't answer. And once again, Met seemingly can tell. "I'll back off if it's too much. Meet you where you are when you're ready."
"Thanks..." Is the only thing I can muster. And Met doesn't prod any further. Instead, Scott comes over with bowls of food. The gulyás is served.
I get a spoonful into my mouth... Wow. Igazából nem is rossz. (It's not bad, actually.)
"To your liking?" I hear Scott ask.
"Very much, yes." I answer after swallowing. "Was this the first attempt?"
"I fucked up about five times." He responds, taking a bite for himself, almost spitting it out from the heat coming off of it. It's kind of funny to watch, since Met ends up making the same mistake. Such a stubborn man.
We continue to eat for a while, conversing at the same time. I'm glad that Met convinced me to come over. The food, the company and the music is a welcome reprieve from, well... everything from the past week. But that all comes roaring back as I feel my phone start buzzing. Someone's calling me. I take the black box out of my pocket and see the caller ID. Oh nem... (Oh no...) It's Gold City.
"I gotta go real quick." I say as I stand up, not wanting to be suspicious. They seem to not be bothered by it, so I head over to the balcony door, open it, and step out into the summer air of the Bronx. I take a deep breath and answer her call.
"Hey Kati. I just wanted to make sure you remember what's happening tomorrow." Even over the phone, she sounds so calm and confident. Wish I had that.
"Uh, yeah, I remember. Around noon, right?" I respond, trying to stay calm.
"Yeah, noon. You saw the pictures I sent?" I hear Gold say, and those images come rushing back into my mind. But before I can start fantasizing...
Don't even think about it.
Gondolj valami másra. (Think about something different.) That would be nice.
Like how much of a fail-
Ez egy kicsit durva, nem gondolod? (That's a bit harsh, don't you think?) Just shut up...
"Those are... a bit much, don't you think?" I say, still trying to comprehend why she was sent those articles.
"Funny. That's what I said to Randy. It's also why you're coming over. I want some help in figuring out what can work together." She responds. How she is able to be so nonchalant about this baffles me. Then again, she is a model. She's the one who's been in the industry since she was a kid. She's probably used to seeing and being in things like that. I'm not. I'm just a photographer. Speaking of...
"Oh, I forgot to ask: What lenses should I use?" I get the question out calmly, something that surprises me. And I think Gold is surprised by it too.
"It'll be late in the afternoon. Around six. Borderline evening. Got anything that can do well with that kind of lighting?" The question sends my mind racing. What do I have that can work well for
Tuesday? I've got a 24-105mm f/4 lens. Great for landscape shots, close and far, great shots of regular everyday objects too while also getting some good image quality. I also have a 70-200 f/4. Sharp image quality that takes full advantage of the camera's fast focusing time. Then there's the nifty fifty. A reliable workhorse that should be in any photographers arsenal. Maybe I'll bring my camera with me alongside those lenses. Not a bad idea, honestly.
"I've got a few. I'll bring them so that we can figure out what works best." I say, adding another layer for tomorrow. But we'll manage. Too bad I won't get any of those night shots I wanted to see...
"That's fine. Perfect, actually. I'll see you then. Have a good night." That's the last thing I hear before she ends the call. And I feel... empty. Every phone call has lasted at least an hour, going on and on and on. I guess she has other things to take care of and couldn't keep going. That's fine. I don't want to take up her time, but... It's disappointing. I like hearing her voice...
Stop.
Van idő és hely. De nem most. (There's a time and place. But not now.)
Never. There is no time or place.
Uh... Are we...
Azt javaslom, ne legyél ilyen nehézkezű. (I suggest you stop being so heavy-handed.)
Heavy-handed? I'm trying to PROTECT us from harm.
Az érzelmeinek elfojtása SOHA NEM fog megvédeni minket. Ez csak több kárt okoz. (Repressing her emotions will NEVER protect us. It will only cause more harm.)
As if you would know.
Can we not...
How righteous of you. The supposed voice of reason leading her astray.
Soha nem állítottam, hogy Igazságos vagyok. Te írod fel nekem a minőséget. (I never claimed to be righteous. That is you prescribing the quality onto me.)
No matter who's speaking here, I don't get a say in the matter. There's no winning this war, is there?
|-Sunday morning. One West Luxury Apartments, 1 West Street, Manhattan-|
I don't like brushing my tail. It's so sensitive. More than other umas. But if I want to keep up appearances... I brush it twice. Once before I shower and once after. I want to get any knots out before I step into the water, starting at the base and slowly working my way to the tip. After that's done, I start the shower and wait until the water gets warm. Once I see steam, I step in, but not before putting my hair up, slide some ear socks on and then put my tail in it's cover. I don't want to get my hair wet just yet. I use bars of soap. Body wash is... Ça me fait prure. (It makes me itchy.) I don't like the feeling. It's like a constant rash that scratching just won't get rid of. But bars? Especially those made with materials like shae butter and cocoa? It's very nice. Keeps my skin smooth, supple and shiny. Comes off well in photos. I lather every inch of my skin that I can, wanting to be thorough. Once I have covered every space I can, I set the bar own and begin to rinse myself off. Once the suds are flowing down the drain, I take a hand towel, place it over the drain and remove my tail cover. The towel prevents hair that comes loose from draining en masse, clogging the drain. I grab my shampoo, pouring out only a little. I don't like to waste shampoo, and it only goes on the scalp, anyway. I start massaging the top of my head, taking care to not accidentally tear into the plastic covering my ears. I make sure that my back is facing away from the shower head so that I can get shampoo on my tail. Again, only the base. I don't want to waste shampoo. Once I feel like I've covered enough, I turn around and wash away the used shampoo while reaching for the conditioner. With conditioner, the amount you pour is linked to the length of your hair. I have long hair that goes to my mid back, only a handful of centimeters above the base of my tail. So I have to pour out a lot of conditioner for that alone. I haven't factored in my tail yet. I have the amount I need in my hand and begin to rub them together as if I were washing my hands. Then, I start running my hands through my hair, going along the length but never touching my scalp. Conditioner does not go there. Much like how shampoo doesn't go beyond the scalp. Once I feel like I've done enough, I move to my tail, repeating the same motions.Once all of that is done, I rinse off, taking a deep breath as the steam surrounds me.
I shut the water off after wringing out the towel, hanging it nearby so it can dry off until I inevitably repeat this cycle. I take another deep breath before I step out, wanting a clear head. Or as clear of a head as I can get. Hokkaido... Who was I infatuated with while I was there? I'm still trying to figure out this odd memory. It is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the source of this attraction I feel towards Kati. And it wasn't a random visit. Me and my mother had moved back to Japan and she split from my Père. It's been a while since I talked to him. Or was in Oshawa. I really miss Canada sometimes. But that's neither here nor there. I couldn't have been a teenager yet. I started modeling not too long after I turned 14. I was still going to school when this happened. But who was the girl? I can't seem to remember a face. Just that I felt something for another girl. Not a wanting for friendship. Something more. Something... romantic. Of course, I didn't understand it at the time and passed it off as a one time occurrence. Especially since I don't remember seeing that girl again. The more I try to understand this... the more questions are raised. It's... frustrating. Hijō ni iraira shimasu. (Extremely frustrating.) I just can't quite put the pieces together and it is draining.
Okay... Take a step back and breathe. I start drying off and put on some underwear before I head back into the bedroom. The clothes that T Magazine sent me are already in the living room, I made sure of that last night. But I can't be in my skivvies when Kati gets here. I can only imagine what that would do to her. I want to have some clothing on before we start judging the pieces. I grab my phone to check the time. 11:00 AM. She gets here in an hour. I quickly head to my wardrobe and pick out clothes at random. I don't particularly care about what I grab. I'm going to be swapping out of them regularly, so what's the point in having them be fancy? Utilitarian isn't my ethos, but I'd be delusional to think it isn't useful every now and then, especially in a moment like this. Ah, this should work. Just a simple grey shirt and black slacks. Makes me feel like a mannequin. Which, admittedly, I am being this afternoon, for all intents and purposes. I slide into the clothing and head into the kitchen for a light breakfast. I don't want it to be too heavy, just some toast and eggs. I quickly make my breakfast and eat, hearing a text tone from my phone as I finish. Kati must be here. I walk over to the coffee table and grab the little box, seeing the message.
'I'm here. What floor are you on?' It reads. I look at the time and see that it's 11:30. Early once again. I won't lie, that tendency of hers is growing on me. It means that Kati is reliable and consistent. I like that.
'17th floor. Unit 1708. I have everything ready and set up in the living room.' Is what I send her in response. Within a few minutes of sending that response, I hear someone knock on the door. I make my way there and p[en it, seeing Kati with a bag on her shoulder. I'm assuming that her camera and the lenses are in there.
"Punctual, as always." I tell her, smiling as I do so.
"Well, you said be here at noon." She responds, not knowing it isn't noon yet.
"And it's 11:34. Come in. Let's get started. Oh, take off your shoes too." I start walking from the door as I get the statement out. I hear her soft footsteps behind me, indicating that she took off her shoes, and as we reach the living room...
"Oh... these are..." I hear Kati start, but she doesn't quite finish the statement.
"Not as risque as you thought?" I ask, knowing that the more... aggressive pieces let's say, are hidden away. I don't want to be wearing those. Not yet at least. I can tell that Kati has a lot on her mind looking at the skirts and dresses. And I think I know what she's thinking.
"I know. The suggestion of something can sometimes be more arousing than the thing itself. I had similar thoughts." I tell her, wanting it to be clear that it's alright to think that way sometimes. I find myself having those thoughts more and more. But I set them aside. Professionalism and all that.
We start going over some of the pieces I've arrayed on the sofa. One piece we keep coming back to is this red sundress. It's slim and tight, but I think it will fit my form quite well.
"Want to try it? See how it fits?" I hear Kati ask. It's tempting, but I'm torn. As much as I like it, there are some other pieces that catch my eye.
"What about these four?" I say as I pull a blue bikini top, a black sarong, white swim shorts and a see- through summer jacket with floral patterns. Reminds me of some things Helios would wear during the summer. I wouldn't be surprised if she still does every now and then. I wonder how she's been...
"Hmm... It could work. Not really sold on the color of the sarong. Do you have another?" She says, eyes going between me and the pieces I've gathered. I like the black one, but just to be sure, I search and find another. It's red, and the second I bring it over to the sofa, Kati seems to have some ideas.
"That... looks better. Goes well with the blue. Not that the black didn't. It's just that-" "Red and blue work well together." I interrupt, seeing where it was she was going.
We keep discussing what can work well together, me slipping in and out of the pieces with every suggestion. We eventually settle on the blue bikini top, the red sarong and some white shorts. I'm amazed. I never thought that she would have such an eye for fashion. Guess I should expect more surprise from Kati going forward. The pieces also remind me of the Boho Flare shoot. I liked that shoot. It was nice. Glad I was able to keep the clothes, too. But my reminiscing is cut short when I hear Kati ask another question.
"Did they send footwear? Obviously you're not going up there barefoot." I find myself chuckling at that statement.
"No. They sent a few pairs." I say as I grab some of the shoes I was sent. It's mostly sandals. Makes sense given the clothes I was sent. I set them on the sofa and we start our discussion again.
"Those might be a bit much. The heel would also be a pain as well with the stairs." I hear Kati say, the concern evident in her voice.
"But it's only fifty feet tall." I add before Kati can continue speaking.
"And those steps are steep. A heeled shoe would make falling too much of a possibility." She goes on, the concern still there. Maybe I should listen. I take the heeled shoes off the sofa, leaving only flats. From there, we discuss further.
"These look nice. A bit bulky but they should be serviceable." I hear Kati say as she eyes one of the pairs. They're simple, brown sandals with a slight platform. But it shouldn't be an issue. At least, I hope it won't be an issue. I take the shoes and slip them on, getting a feel for them as I walk around the living room. They're nice. Fit well. Not too tight. Not too loose. Just right. And the sole is sturdy. "Thoughts?" I hear Kati ask, her eyes following me as I walk.
"These are nice. I like them." I respond, bouncing on my heels to test them. Well balanced. I like that. I look to Kati, seeking some validation and she seems to give it to me.
"Is that what you're going with?" She then asks as if she were judging me.
"Yes. Is that a problem?" I counter, wanting to pick her brain.
"Not at all. They look good on you." The compliment makes me blush slightly. I try to hide it, not just to shield myself from embarrassment, but also to avoid Kati shutting down. I think seeing me blush from something she said would utterly destroy her. Let's avoid that if possible. A tense silence then falls in the room. One that quickly becomes uncomfortable. One of us needs to speak, but who will it be? Who will break the ice? It's tense. Too tense. Something will inevitably break. And something does.
"So... the lenses. We should probably test those out." I hear Kati say, making me remember that she did bring her camera with her. She goes to grab her camera bag, coming back in quick succession with it, taking out her camera and the lenses when she sits down in a chair.
"Alright, this is the 70-200 f/4. Want to try it first?" I hear her ask as she screws the lens into place. I nod, wanting to see how the shot looks. I go and stand by the window, which gets a confused expression to form on Kati's face.
"Uh..." Before she can continue, I speak up.
"I thought we were testing the lenses." I say, cocking my head slightly. Kati seems to get the message as lines up her camera. No flash, but I do hear the shutter close. I hear it a few more times, and after the fifth, I move to where Kati is to look at the photos.
"Wow. Those look nice." I say, examining the photos. Seems my compliment gets a rise out of Kati, who starts blushing hard.
"Let's, uh... Let's try the 24-105mm f/4." I hear her say as she starts to unscrew the lens to swap it out. Another minute and she gets the next lens on. I take my place back by the window, and we repeat the process. All while my heart keeps fluttering. Oshawa... Monbetsu... Memories of the past...
Espérons que cela ne me consomme pas. (Let's hope this doesn't consume me.)
|-That evening. Artesano, 90 Chambers Street Unit A-|
"This isn't bad, actually. I quite like it." I try to get Gold to different places throughout Manhattan. Seems to work each time.
"Glad to know that. I've been meaning to come here for a while now." I say, taking a bite out of some yuca fries.
"So this is just an excuse to come to a high end restaurant?" She asks in a fashion similar to interrogation. Why does it...
Stop. Don't even think about it.
Fókuszban az itt és most. (Focus on the here and now.) I'm trying...
Clearly you're not trying hard enough you pathe-
Ne légy ilyen durva vele. (Stop being so harsh on her.)
I mentally sigh, knowing that I won't win tonight. I just hope that she doesn't notice the war that is being waged in my head. And that I'm slowly but surely losing it.
"This kind of place wouldn't get the time of day in Oshawa, let alone in Monbetsu." That gets my attention. I thought Gold City was Japanese. Why is she talking about a place in Canada?
"Oshawa... Isn't that in-" She cuts me off before I can continue.
"Ontario? Yes. Not too far from Toronto. My Père lives there." She says, her voice steady and firm. She's half-Canadian? I never would have guessed. "He met my mother in... 1998 I want to say. She was studying in Toronto as an international student at the time."
"And your mom was Japanese?" I ask, unsure if it's appropriate.
"Yes. She's Japanese. Though... she wasn't born in Japan." Gold responds. Things just keep getting weirder and weirder. "Palermo. In Sicily. Her parents were traveling throughout Europe at the time. What about you? Where are your parents from?" Oh great, now it's my turn to lore dump.
"Ápa was born in Cincinnati. His dad was too. But all his grand parents and mom were from Budapest. Anya was from Debrecen." I say, not wanting to go too in depth. That's for another time. Like that will ever happen...
"Oh... So you're Hungarian?" Why does she sound so surprised by that? It's not like my first name is Hungarian or anything.
"I... I thought it was obvious?" I say, still trying to figure out how she didn't know.
"You're going to drag me for being surprised to learn you're Hungarian when you were surprised to find out I'm half-Canadian? Parlez-moi de doubles poids, deux mesures. (Talk about double-standards.)" Oh, French Canadian. How fun...
"So your dad is from Quebec?" I then ask, still digging in.
"His parents are from Québec. Trois-Rivières. But he is not. Père is Ontario born and raised." She says plainly, keeping our witty joust going. Two can play the multi-lingual game.
"Mi történt még Oshawában? Vagy túl érzékeny ahhoz, hogy megvitassuk? (Well, what else happened in Oshawa? Or is it too touchy to discuss?)" My little jab gets a laugh out of her, and dear god...
No. Not again. Stop.
Higgadj le. Hadd találja ki a dolgokat. Erre koncentrálj. (Calm down. Let her figure things out. Here, focus on this.)
It's soothing, what I'm seeing in my mind. Me, anya and ápa at the natural history museum next to Central Park. It's pleasant. I miss it. I should go back at some point. Get some nice pictures while I'm there. But this little detour is interrupted.
"You should do that more often." I hear Gold say, making me blush slightly.
"You can't even understand what I'm saying though." I jokingly say, expecting everything but what she says next.
"I can always learn it. Besides, it sounds nice." Once again, my mind starts racing, but I manage to keep things in check. If temporarily.
"Well, uh... Maybe I could learn Japanese and Canadian French." I stutter slightly, but Gold doesn't seem to notice.
"Tu penses pouvoir gérer le français québécois? Fais-toi plaisir. (You think you can handle Quebecker French? Be my guest.) I'd love to see you try." A challenge. I like that.
"Certainly would be easier than Japanese." I respond, taking the presented challenge. "Have you ever been to France?"
"I spent two months in Orléans a few years ago. It's funny. Everyone there thought that I wouldn't be able to or just couldn't understand them. So you can imagine what their faces looked like when I started speaking like I was from Montréal in perfect français québécois." She says, reminiscing on that time.
"What about Quebec?" I then ask, wanting to know more.
"No, not really." Is the answer Gold gives me. That's... surprising. "Père never had the time to visit his parents in Trois-Rivières. Always so busy. Part of why he and my mother split. She took me and booked a flight back to Hokkaido when I was eleven." That's unfortunate. I won't prod. "Are your parents on good terms?" Oh... I... Wasn't expecting that.
"My anya is, uh..." Gold stops me in my tracks, as if sensing where I'm going with this.
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It's... not pleasant, isn't it?" She says, her voice dropping low like it did back in Central Park. And just as our food arrives.
I like the city's night life. It's bright and loud, but not overwhelming. Nothing is too in your face. It's not like Times Square. Just thinking about that place gives me migraines. But unfortunately for me, Times Square is exactly where we are heading. We've come into a reliable rhythm and pattern where Gold City can just tell that I'm not really feeling the vibes.
"Something wrong?" I hear her ask.
"I'm not exactly a fan of Times Square. There's just too much going on there." I say, letting my objections be known. And Gold seems to consider it.
"We can head somewhere else." She says, not wanting to put out a suggestion until I say something. "No, it's okay. You want to se-" Gold cuts me off again.
"If it's something you don't like, then I'm not interested in it." It's firm. Stoic. And it sets my heart on fire. But I don't get time to ruminate on it as she quickly grabs my wrist and starts walking in the opposite direction. I takes me a few seconds to figure out where we are, but the giant golden statue and towering art-deco skyscraper are dead giveaways.
"What the... The Rockefeller Center?" I'm stunned. This had to be on purpose. No way it wasn't. But what I hear next...
"Is that significant?" I hear Gold ask. Istenem... (My god...)
"You don't know about the Rockefeller Center? It's like... the most well known landmark in the city. Right after the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building." I may be from Yonkers, but that just came out of nowhere. How... do you not know... about the Rockefeller Center... It's my turn to grab Gold's wrist and I start to move towards the rink. Looks like they have it set up for roller-skating. I've never seen that before. It's usually got DJs during spring and summer. But regardless, this is perfect.
"Ever gone skating?" I ask as I turn to her.
"Like, skateboarding?" She counters. Oh... this is gonna be fun.
"No. Roller-skating. They've got the rink set up for that tonight." I pay for both of us up front and immediately head down after we're given our skates. I take some blades. Gold gets quads. Easier to work with. Perfect for someone who's never skated before.
We get the skates on and head onto the rink. It's not as busy as I thought it would be, but there's still people here. I quickly get onto the wood panels, and watch as Gold cautiously steps on. She's clearly not used to this. I plan of changing that. I skate towards her, wanting to help her out.
"Here. Hold on to me for now." I say, outreaching my hand so that she can take it, which she does. Woah... her skin really is as soft as I thought... Az istenit. Koncentrálj, Kati. (God dammit. Focus, Kati.) I start skating backwards while she struggles at first. It's funny and cute to see her usual confidence melt away like this.
"I, uh... I don't.." She starts, voice trembling.
"Don't worry. Just push like I am. Watch." I let go of her momentarily to show what I mean. I can feel her eyes on me, watching my every move. After a few seconds I spin back around to face her, hands outstretched. But I can tell her confidence is coming back. She's a quick learner, having processed what I was doing and effortlessly copying it. We continue like this for a good hour, and then Gold decides to call it.
"Okay, that was fun but..." I cut her off, knowing where she might be going.
"Tiring? I know. You'll get used to it though." I tell her, knowing that she might want to try this again. We step off the rink and slip back into our shoes before heading back on the sidewalk. But as we walk, something catches City's eye.
"What the... When did..." I walk over to where she's standing, having unknowingly pulled ahead of her. It's an ad featuring an uma model with dark brown hair and blue highlights. I look at some of the info on screen. 'Daitaku Helios'. Hmm... Interesting.
"Do you... know her?" I ask, unsure of what her answer will be.
"She's a good friend. Though I haven't heard from her in a while. Guess I know why now." She says, clearly reminiscing over a few good memories as she looks at the ad. She must've met Helios when she was still racing. I then hear Gold take a deep breath, and she starts walking again. The rest is spent in silence. But it isn't tense. It's comfortable. Think I'll leave it like that. Just the two of us walking down the night streets of Manhattan. I can get used to this.