Page 57 of The Encore’s Crown

I make sure to post before we leave.

Nagoya, You're So Pretty.

Reactions flood in. Hearts, comments, brand messages, and men from Ohio offering to show me the “real Japan.” Then his name appears.

bomos_tra liked your story.

My stomach flips. He likes the next one, then the next. Even when we weren’t speaking, he still watched, leaving silent proof that he was there while refusing to talk to me. I try not to smile at the idea that I have his attention and fail.

Ōsu is chaos in my favorite way, crowded streets, vintage signs, music I can’t place. I film jackets, street food and Kasia trying on ridiculous sunglasses. Rafe burns his mouth while pretending he didn’t and Kasia can't stop laughing at his reaction. I buy lip tints, a tiny ceramic crocodile, and a black mesh top that will absolutely break Kiri.

I post the crocodile with the caption Found Local Wildlife, and he likes it instantly. Then I post the top with Responsible Purchases Only, followed by a mirror clip of me holding it against my body. He likes both. I bite my lip, because he knows exactly what he’s doing. The thought stays with me all afternoon, warm and secret, tucked inside of me. Every time my phone vibrates, I expect his name, and for a while, it’s there. Then it isn’t. I post again and get nothing. Another story brings the same result. Maybe reception is bad or he’s busy, but the mood dims anyway.

I’ve convinced myself I don’t care just in time for dinner. Inside Atsuta Hōraiken the smell of grilled eel fills the private room as everyone arrives in random spurts. I keep watching the door as each person makes their entrance. Rithy comes in last, alone, and the empty space beside him makes my chest cave in.

“Where’s Kiri?” I ask as casually as I can.

Rithy looks at me just long enough to make me regret it. “He’s not feeling great, probably exhaustion. He didn’t sleep much.” My face heats, but Rithy stays neutral. “It's been a long tour. I'll be his meal delivery service tonight.”

“He’s never liked eel anyway,” Ronan says as he lifts the lid from his meal and practically moans in pleasure at the smell.

“There's no accounting for taste,” Signe says.

Rithy glances my way. “Admittedly he has some… unexpected preferences.”

I stab my eel harder than necessary.

Signe sits beside me, quieter than usual. “You looked stunning today. My feed was blowing up, not that I minded. Have a nice day?”

Normally I’d tease her and watch Kiri pretend not to listen from across the table, but there’s no one across from me tonight. I manage a response that's as enthusiastic as I feel.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

Dinner continues around me but I don't feel a part of it. I laugh when I should, contribute when needed, and film the food out of habit, but my attention keeps drifting toward the empty seat. Maybe he really is sick. He looked exhausted this morning and didn't get much sleep because of me. That softens me before the other possibility returns. He’s avoiding me. The likes stopped because he's decided he’s seen enough. Dinner was too real, a reminder of everything he regrets, so now he’s hiding while Rithy delivers food. Classic. Everyone warned me. He’s irresistible in the moonlight but disappears in the daylight, typical toxic male. I almost believed that he was different.

My phone sits beside my plate with no message waiting. I open our chat and find his last text still there.

I’m sorry, Nat.

He doesn't seem very fucking sorry. He didn’t message this morning, hid all day, and now he isn’t here.

“You okay?” Signe asks.

“Wonderful. Isn't the eel delicious?”

She looks at my untouched food. “Yeah. Delicious.”

When dinner ends, Rithy carries a bag filled with everything except eel, and I pretend not to notice. In the elevator, I make sure I’m with him without making it obvious. When the doors open, everyone splits off. My room is to the right, while Rithy goes left. I slow just enough to watch him pass one door, then two, then three before stopping. The door opens, and Kiri appears briefly in a dark shirt, his hair messy, hanging down over his eyes. Rithy turns his head, so I hurry into my room and shut the door behind me, my heart racing.

I should edit, post, and answer messages. Instead, I sit on the bed and imagine going to see him. I’d knock, ask whether he’s actually sick or simply a pathetic fuckboy, and tell him he doesn’t get to touch me like that and then disappear. I’d ask whether he regrets it, because that’s the real question beneath all the others. The one that burns and makes it hard to breathe. That makes my eyes sting.

I lie back, fully dressed, boots still on and phone resting against my chest. I should get up, get ready for bed, but the exhaustion holds me there. My last thought isn’t anger. It’s distance. Just one more night, then we're going home. Seattle for me and somewhere else for him. Soon, we won’t even be on the same continent, and that hurts more than the empty seat at dinner.

I close my eyes, still planning how I’ll confront him, but sleep takes me before I decide.

Kasia knocks at eleven with the clipped, precise rhythm of a doctor, and irritation sparks the second I hear it. I’m awake, technically, but still lying diagonally across the bed in a hotel robe while breakfast cools on the desk. According to my phone, I should already be dressed for some sightseeing before soundcheck.

When I open the door, she takes one look at me. “You’re not ready. We leave in fifteen minutes.”