Rosé laughed and waved goodbye to him before he slipped back onto the dance floor. He pushed through the crowd, trying not to spill his drink, feeling pleasantly warm and happy. He pressed up beside Arnaud, who celebrated his return by getting him to dance, his hands on Luka’s shoulders, moving him to the beat.
Arnaud had so much energy, it was infectious. They stayed on the dance floor, dancing and singing along, until the DJ took a break and the speakers started playing top 40s jams instead. Arnaud pulled Luka off the dance floor and to the outside patio bar, where he ordered them another round of drinks and some water.
“I thought you said you were too serious,” Arnaud said, once he’d downed half of his water in one go. “It looks to me like you play just fine.”
“I had to learn,” Luka replied before spotting an open table near the venue wall. He pointed to it, and Arnaud led the way. Once he was seated and his hoodie was finally off, he said, “I was never very good at it when I was younger. It took a lot for me to come out of my shell and be able to let loose like that and havefun. I learned by replicating people who do it naturally until it felt comfortable.”
“Well, I’m happy you learned. Dancing with you is fun. We should drag Hikaru away from work and make him come too.”
“I’ve been saying,” Luka agreed. “He did say he wants to.”
“We go out sometimes on tour. T-yan likes to go with Hikaru a lot because he stays sober on tour and likes to watch out for them.”
“That's really sweet of him.”
Arnaud nodded. “It is. Oh yeah, I said I would tell you.” He pushed his drink aside and then started talking. “I found T-yan on YouTube, too, but he wasn’t working with a band. Someone had caught him street performing on video and posted it. He didn’t even know the video existed, let alone that it had gone viral. It took me months to find him because he wasn’t online, really. Only when he went to an internet cafe. I guess he was sleeping on his friend's floor and didn’t have a phone and was making money banging on random shit he’d collected from the streets.”
“I didn’t know that.” Luka tried to imagine someone as put together as T-yan in that kind of situation and the image he conjured wasn’t very different from how he’d been in his teen years.
“Yup, he was only fifteen. I mean, I wasn’t much older than him but still. Having to crash on his friend's floor because his parents thought he was gay, busking for money—I’d hate to have that kind of luck. He wasn’t, isn’t, even really gay or bi, pédé?12, or anything. He was just a metalhead, dressing weird compared to the people around him, and his parents thought the wrong thing. Made him question for a long time if he was, though; it turns out it's a‘sometimes, but not really’.
“I finally found his contact info and he emailed me back saying, ‘fuck off scammer’. Which, I still find funny.” Arnaudlaughed into his drink for a moment before saying, “It took a while to convince him I was who I said I was. But, at that point, he had nothing left to lose, so he took the plane to Nice and didn’t go back to Busan again. We haven’t even been there on tour. He says he likes France better, and London has nicer girls. Ils sont magnifiques, ouais?13?”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Luka said, trying to process everything he was learning.
“We signed him on my mom’s label as soon as he got to Nice so he’d have a work visa.”
“Must be nice," Luka mused as he stirred his drink, “having those kinds of resources.”
“C’est comme ça?14,” Arnaud casually agreed. “I like using, ah…resourcesfor the benefit of my friends and mes copains et?15 the persons who need it more than myself. That extends to you now mon cheri?16, starting with free drinks for life as long as you treat Hikaru well.” He hopped out of his chair and left for the bar, presumably to get another round of drinks for them, even though Luka hadn’t finished his current.
He hoped that would be the closest he’d get to a shovel talk that night.
Hikaru
I'll be done here within an hour. I'm so tired.
( ;´ - `;)
You poor thing. I'll tell Arnaud we should wrap up here soon then. Want me to rub your hands when I'm home?
I will cry happy tears, I'm a mess. Do not judge me for my level of pathetic.
Only lovingly would I judge you.
//(°.,?o?,°)//
lovingly he says
“Here!" Arnaud placed a drink in front of him. “Finis ton verre?17! Finish your other, you can’t fall behind me.”
“You know you’re like twice my size, right?” Luka put his phone away and accepted the new drink.
“You’re so small, c’est sympa—tu es mignon?18.Cute. I could pick you up and throw you so easily.” Arnaud leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed as he ignored whatever face Luka was making. “Hikaru said you’re making a graphic novel? What’s it about?”
Luka cleared his throat, trying to comprehend what was happening. He gave up after a moment and tried to form a coherent answer. “It’s…autobiographical,” Luka felt shy admitting, “Some stuff that happened when I was younger. It started as a really personal project but the few people I’ve shown it to say it resonated with them and I should seek a wider audience. I don’t know how it would feel to have strangers witnessing those parts of me though.”
“It feels that way singing the lyrics I do sometimes. It’s pretty— how do you say? Ce serait libérateur?19? Cathartic.”
