The Stars and Broken Parts

P R O L O G U E

“Stop moving.”

“You’re pulling.”

“You’re being a baby.”

His lips curl into a pout.

“Just sit still,” I sigh once again, running the comb through his damp hair. “Keep moving and I just might cut your ear off.”

“Why am I trusting you to do this again?”

“Good point.” I reach for the sheers, pulling the hair taut before I snip. “I have no idea.”

I cut two more sections.

“I guess I can always get a buzz,” Charlie hums as more hair falls to the floor.

“Sorry, but I don’t think you have the cheekbones to pull that off.”

“Bullshit.”

That makes me snicker.

Of course, he does.

Charlie looks more like Clark Kent than Clark Kent does. He could pull off any look, but I’ve been cutting my hair since high school, and I’m confident that I can give him a trim. Save the ears and all.

“You should have gone and gotten it cut like you babbled about a month ago,” I say. “Then you wouldn’t be forced to go to Salon de Banks . ”

“Slipped my mind.” He shrugs. “Late shifts got my schedule all weird.”

That we could agree on. We’d both been pulling mainly night shifts as of late.

“That’s not an excuse to keep stealing my clips.”

I can hear him smirk.

My eyes roll as I set the sheers down and run my fingers through his milky chocolate tresses a few times. It would dry and manage to look perfectly windblown.

“Good enough,” I decide, flicking a few stray hairs off his shoulder.

Charlie stands, careful to not step on any. God forbid his socks trail it all through Kai’s apartment.

His tall frame quickly fills the bathroom as he stands in front of the mirror, toying with the front pieces while I do my best to compile the mess.

It’s impossible to ever forget how tall Charlie is. Even sitting on the toilet while I cut his hair, I nearly needed to stand on Kai’s squatty potty.

“Not bad,” he grins. “I think you might be forever employed.”

I shake my head. “I am not going to cut your hair on the regular.”

“Why not?”

I bump him with my hip to get to the garbage can.

“If I wanted to cut hair for a living, I would have gone to cosmetology school rather than nursing school.”

“Is it really for a living if I am paying you in pizza and quality time? ”

He shoos to the kitchen, grabbing a broom. Given the tiny footage of the two-bedroom apartment, it’s as if he never left.

“Quality time? That’s your best offer?”

He reappears handing me the broom to get the few flyaways.

“It’s my love language.”

“I must love the shit out of you, Charlie Barnes.”

He smiles, widely.

“That’s all I ask from you, Banks Matsumura.”

I stick my tongue out at my best friend and finish cleaning up while he goes to order that pizza I was promised.

Charlie.

Next-Door-Charlie.

Charlie ‘you need me’ Barnes.

My best friend.

For me to explain Charlie, I have to tell you how we met.

Not for the first time, but for the second.

I stare at the video chat as Perry rants about her shitty boyfriend. Perry, my best friend, who went to college half the country over, is in love with a toxic asshole. Her sandy brown hair, which is thicker than any girl has a right to, is hanging over her shoulder in a windblown model sort of way. She’s painting her nails, or attempting to, I should say. She never quite learned how to stay inside the lines.

“He didn’t invite me to go with him,” she complains. “We’ve been together for two months. Isn’t that kind of fucked up?”

“Isn’t it like a private thing?”

“Yeah.” She shrugs, her big eyes staring at me.

“Don’t you think it’s a little soon?”

Perry rolls her eyes. “Who are you in love with tonight?”

“His name is Tyler.” I flash her the cover of the book I was reading before she Facetimed me.

“Go on a real date, Banks,” she grumbles. “I know for a fact Kai is going out tonight, go with him.”

“Why the hell would I want to go out when I have Tyler?”

“Because Tyler can’t charge that V-card you’ve been holding on to.”

“P,” I groan.

“R, it’s time you became rated R. We’re twenty-two. Live a fucking little and by fucking, I mean do it.”

“I don’t want to be the Asian girl who didn’t live up to expectations, you know this.”

“If it’s a one-night stand, who cares?”

“I do and I don’t want a one-night stand.”

“Bitch, you need to get laid. You’re so wound up.”

“I know,” I mutter. I know it’s time. I’m ready. Hell, I’ve been ready, but I want love. I want the guy I sleep with to be having sex with me because he likes me and for no other reason.

“Go out with Kai,” she repeats. “Please for my own sanity. I need you to go out. I need a story to look forward to or I might suffocate Dan with a fucking pillow tonight.”

“I need fair warning if we’re burying a dead body.”

“How bad are these?” She holds up her hands and as expedited, they look like they did, in fact, kill someone.

“Perry,” I try to muffle my giggles .

“What? I don’t have my Asian to buff my situation,” she whines, attempting to fix the red polish that she has smeared everywhere.

“Stop quoting Jennifer’s Body.”

“Says the Asian Megan Fox.”

“Shut up. I look like I ate Megan Fox.”

She pretends she doesn’t hear me. “You’re gorgeous, Banks. It’s time you start believing it.”

“For an Asian girl,” I add, as that’s what usually comes after that sentence.

“I would kill to look like you, I mean really kill. If killing Dan in some satanic ritual could allow us to switch bodies, I would do it.”

“Where do I sign up?”

Perry brings the phone dangerously close to her mouth; I think I can see her tonsils. “ Go. Out. ”

I hiss.

“I’ll text Kai myself if I have to.”

“You will not.”

“Try me.” She cocks a brow.

I look at the time, it’s just after eight on a Friday night and unfortunately, she’s right. My older brother by a mere nineteen months is definitely going out tonight. He’s on the rebound from his most recent breakup. There’s been so many, I don’t even remember their names at this point.

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve gone out?”

I don’t answer her, setting my book on my nightstand.

“Don’t tell me it was birthday week.”

I still don’t answer.

“BANKS MALIE MATSUMARA! ”

I don’t even jump at her raised voice as I slowly sit up, letting my feet dangle off the side of the bed.

“I know,” I sigh. “I know. Fine, I’ll text Kai.”

“He’s in the living room, go talk to him.”

I roll my eyes.

“Go,” she says one final time. “I have to fix my nails before Dan thinks I chopped my fingers off. Send me a picture of your outfit. Love you, bye!”

My phone screen exits out of the Facetime and I reluctantly drag myself from my bed.

Kai and I share his apartment downtown, which at first was, so I could be close to school, but I’ve yet to get my own place. And if I see one more half-naked girl in the kitchen, I might gouge my own eyes out. Our parents live in the suburbs and our older brother is married with a little one. They moved back to the suburbs as well last year just before the baby was born, a bouncy little boy.

I step into the hallway of the little apartment; I can hear video games in the living room as I move into the little doom yellow kitchen. Kai is sitting on the couch, eyes fixed on the television screen that is far too large for the room. Kai has the same jet-black hair as me and the prettiest liquid topaz eyes. He’s trim and basically six foot. He has the e-boy aesthetic going on. Tattoos, white socks with black jeans, and a fluffy haircut.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his gaze still glued to the game. I think he’s playing Call of Duty.

“Are you going out tonight?” I lean against the little wood cart we got from Ikea at my instance that we have an island when his protein shakes and liquor bottles cover most of the sparse counter space .

“Course.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

Kai continues to play but glances over at me. His flat but flattering nose flared. “You want to go out?”

I nod, pursing my lips.

“Sure,” he says still a bit confused. “If you want. I’m going to leave in about an hour.”

“Alright.” I let out a breath. “I’ll be ready.”

I hate to admit it, but Kai is pretty. Like really pretty, and if I didn’t know it myself, all the girls in high school swooning over him told me so. Repeatedly.

I hated being his sister sometimes, strictly because they all beamed at him like a walking God. He was Kai Matsumara , while most people only knew my name because I was Kai’s sister. There is always some label attached. I found it difficult to find my place as an individual. Just Banks.

I go into the bathroom, knowing Kai would want a shower before we left, so I decided to take one quickly and shave my legs. I twist my hair up with a chopstick and step into the dated tub, pulling the white sheer curtain. When I’m finished, I climb out, wrap my honey yellow towel around my body, and skip across the hall. The one saving grace about this apartment is his bedroom is on the other end of the place. He gave me the room closest to the bathroom, which was nice. What was even nicer was the space between us, so I didn’t have to listen to any of the girls he brought back.

Back in my little room, where my bed takes up most of the space, I put on some rose-scented body butter before letting my hair out. My closet is about the size of a tiny filing cabinet, but I open it and shift through the few dresses I have. My favorite is a little black one Perry bought me. I refused to buy it myself thinking, I was a little too heavy for it, so she went and bought it behind my back.

It’s a slip dress with a jacquard pattern all over it. It falls nicely over my breasts and hugs my hips while still hiding my small tummy. I put the dress on and move on to makeup. I do my usual wing with dark brown liner, it's subtle and compliments my almond eye shape. I use a lipstick the same color as my natural lips to not draw any extra attention to them and apply a couple of generous coats of mascara.

My hair is pin straight and unless I wanted to set pin curls, it would stay straight. My hair isn’t overly long, but it does brush my bust line. It’s thick but not as thick as Perry’s and I had long layers cut into it to frame my oddly shaped face. I have both my mother’s heart-shaped mixed with my father’s round-shaped face. Not exactly the most desirable but the layers help give my really flat heavy hair some body. I spray some texture spray through it, attempting to make it look a little more voluminous, but it’s a bit pointless.

I heard Kai get out of the shower ten minutes ago, as I grabbed my shoes. I draw the line at heels when going out. I would only be more miserable. And I don’t have a collection of sneakers for nothing. I pick a pair of black and white Nikes that have a little bit of lift to them and slide them on over my pink and gray kitty socks.

I stand in front of the body-length mirror behind my door and send a picture to Perry as requested. I then slip my ID into a little black wristlet and go out into the kitchen to wait on Kai.

I notice him standing on the balcony. If the eight by six feet space could be called a balcony. He’s smoking a joint, but at least he put his gaming shit away. I walk over to the dark blue rolled couch, fix the two accent pillows, and grab his soda and pizza box from the coffee table his feet had been on. I’m putting them in the garbage when he comes back in.

“You look nice, Banks,” he says as I turn.

“Thanks.”

“You ready?”

He grabs his wallet from the coffee table, which he threw there after paying for the pizza.

I nod and his phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out, reading whatever it is. A soft expression on his face. He wore a loose black tee that was a little sheer, a long thin silver chain around his neck, and his black jeans, stylishly tucked into his white socks.

I follow him out of the apartment, down the two stories of stairs, and out into the night. It’s early June and I can already feel that it’s going to be a hot, hot summer.

“What made you want to come out?” Kai asks as we walk down the street. My guess is we’re going two blocks over to his favorite bar.

I can’t tell Kai the real reason, so I lie. “I was getting a little stuffy.”

“It’s been a while.” He nods. “If you want to go, let me know and I’ll walk you back or call an Uber,” he instructs. “Don’t walk back alone.”

“I will be fine.”

“Seriously, Banks,” he murmurs. “Don’t walk back by yourself.”

“Okay,” I say just to appease him.

Kai’s favorite bar is a mix between a traditional bar and a club. It’s called Harlem’s and has a sort of rich grunge feel to it. We flash our IDs and get inside. It’s packed, with people dancing up by the DJ and others socializing by the bar. There’s a less full patio, but a few people stood by the fire feature, red and yellow embers lighting their faces under the twinkle lights that hung above.

“Kai!”

My brother grins as he hugs a guy I recognize as Peter, blonde hair and the same e-boy look. They work together at the tattoo shop. That’s the other thing about Kai, he’s an amazing artist.

“You remember Banks?” Kai turns to me as Peter nods.

“Hey, Banks.”

“Hey.”

“You want a drink?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Kai amps.

Kai drags me to the bar with them, where they are served right away because they are regulars. Kai hands me a beer bottle. I look at the label and smile, it’s a cider. I hate beer but I like ciders.

I take a few sips and my surroundings start to truly invade. I’m in a crowded bar on a Friday night, where I don’t know anyone but my brother. I’m not a dance-by-myself confident type and I don’t have it in me to start a random conversation. I quickly realized what a mistake I made. I should be at home with my made-up man.

Kai is so effortless, chatting with Peter and two random girls who stood nearby. I’m envious, I wish I could be like that rather than having the insides full of crippling anxiety. I take another long sip and wander out to the patio. There are fewer people and I feel like I can breathe. I move to the edge of the half wall, made of dark wood and glass panels. I lean over it, staring at the cars driving by .

Why did I do this to myself?

I pitch the neck of the bottle between my fingers, lifting it to my lips once more.

“Hey.”

I peer over my shoulder at the voice.

It’s manly and deep but somehow familiar.

My eyes land on a blue and red flannel first before slowly rising to his face. Curly hair the color of a Hersey bar and big eyes the color of the ocean. His nose is angler, his jaw wide and square. His lips are surrounded by slightly more pigmented skin like he has to shave every day to stay clean-shaven. A little scar just above those said lips, that ever so slightly ruins their perfect outline.

“Do you remember me?” he asks, and I look a little harder, specifically at the scar. “Do you want to kiss me?”

My eyes snap to his at his bold words.

A playful glint lingers. “That’s normally what girls want when they stare at your lips for that long.” A chuckle is under his words. He holds his beer bottle in his sizable palm. He’s tall—taller than Kai by a good couple of inches.

“I was staring at your scar,” I swallow, finding my words. “Do I know you?”

He tips his head with a small snicker, standing beside me, mimicking my arms over the railing. “I suppose I look a little different than you last saw me. You’re Banks, aren’t you? Banks Matsumara?”

I cautiously nod, wondering why someone like him is even talking to me, much less how he knows my name.

“Charlie,” he grins, warmly. “We were neighbors as kids.”

It clicked .

The scar—his voice, while it’s much deeper now. He still sounded like the boy who lived next door. The one just a grade older than Kai, they had been friends before Charlie’s family moved in eighth grade.

“You face-planted into the curb,” I remember.

He knocks his head back, laughing. “Yeah,” he says. “That was me.”

“Wow,” I sigh. “You’re really tall, Charlie.”

He sort of shrugs. “You look the same, Banks,” he says, peering over at me. “I couldn’t believe it was you.”

“Should I be glad that I still appear like a kid?”

His cheeks blush a little. “I didn’t mean it like that. You look older,” he assures me. “I don’t know…” He looks at his hands. “I just knew it was you.”

“Did you move back?” I sidestep that conversation.

“Yeah.” He bobs his head. “I’m in a hotel right now. I’m touring some apartments tomorrow.”

“Where was it you moved to again?”

“My dad got stationed in Germany.”

Charlie’s family was military. They moved a lot before they settled next door for a while, only to move again.

“Wow,” I find myself repeating.

“They still live there.” He takes a drink of his beer. “I moved back a couple of years ago though for college. What about you, still in school?”

“Just graduated,” I tell him. “I’m saving up to get my own place before Kai kicks me out.”

“Kai,” he says fondly. “He’s here too?”

I nod, pointing inside. “He’s in there somewhere. I won’t be offended if you want to go catch up. I remember you guys were pretty close. ”

“I will,” he murmurs. “I’m not done talking to you yet though.”

I’m a bit surprised by his words. I didn’t exactly hang out with Kai and Charlie, but all the kids in the neighborhood knew each other.

“What do you do?”

“I’m an RN.”

“Really?” His brows widen. “That’s amazing.”

“I got a job at Memorial Grace.” I’m not sure why I’m babbling. “What about you?”

“Nothing,” he snorts. “Right now, anyway. I’m kind of in between jobs.” He takes another sip, looking at me a little closer as I shy away. “You okay, Banks?” His voice is light but still concerned.

“I’m just…” I scrunch my nose. “I’m sort of awkward when going out,” I confess, and I have no idea why. “I feel a little out of place.”

“Why is that?” he calmly utters, and I get the courage to look at him again.

Recognition of the kid from my memories morphs into the very real, very hot man before me.

“I haven’t had the best… experiences.”

His face falls. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he jumps away a little.

“No,” I assure him, taking the step toward him that he jumped. “Nothing like that.”

His shoulders relax a bit. “Good,” he murmurs. “I would never want you to feel uncomfortable. I know we haven’t seen each other since we were kids, but that’s important to me. ”

“Who knew,” I grin. “Next-Door-Charlie grew up to be a feminist.”

He snickers. “It’s what’s right in this day and age.”

I like his smile. It’s the kind I imagine made-up men giving. It’s genuine and unconscious.

“Tell me more about you.” He leans into the wall once more.

My eyes playfully narrow at him. “I’m not all that interesting, Charlie. I’m just a girl you used to live next door to.”

“That’s what you think?” He frowns. “You’re Banks.” He looks at me intently. “The prettiest girl on the block with the cool sneakers.”

My lips hang open in disbelief.

He grins again, covering it with his beer. “I always thought you were cool. And what are the odds I move into the city and the second night here, I find you? If that’s not a sign from the stars I don’t know what is.”

“A sign?”

He nods. “I like space and stars. It’s what I studied in school.”

“You’re a scientist?”

He shrugs. “I suppose but I don’t want to ruin my enjoyment of space by doing it for a job.”

“What do you do then?” I prompt.

“This and that.”

Why won’t he tell me what he does?

“I like balconies.” I glance ahead at the cars moving by. “We have a tiny one at Kai’s apartment, but I would like to find a place with a nice one. If I could afford it that is, but I like watching the sunset. ”

“You ever go on the roof?” he wonders. “Most apartment buildings around here have roof access.”

“I’d never thought of that,” I admit. “I should try it.”

“You should.”

A little summer breeze blows through us as Charlie peeks down between us. “Your shoes gave you away,” he tells me. “I thought it was you, but your sneakers confirmed it.”

I look at my feet proudly.

“I bet you have a wicked collection by now.”

“I’d like to think so,” I laugh. “I was so glad when I finally stopped growing and I could keep a pair forever.”

“When was that?” he teases. “Fifth grade?”

“I’m not that short… and it was seventh.”

Charlie’s chest rumbles with laughter. “You’re short, Banks, but I like it.”

I’m barely five-two, which means he’s a good foot and some change taller than I am.

“Next thing I know you’re going to call me ‘fun size’,” I leer.

“Fun size?” he gawks.

“ Oh you’re so short.” I lower my voice like a man. “You’re fun size, want to have fun with me?”

Charlie witnesses my entire skit with raised brows before his face falls into another thick chuckle. “College boys did a number on you, didn’t they?”

I roll my shoulders.

“I think you need me,” he says confidently.

“I need you?” I gape.

He grins. “You obviously need a friend, or you wouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

“Maybe my friend’s inside. ”

“Maybe...” He nods. “Maybe… I need a friend,” he then adds.

“You want to be my friend, Charlie?”

“I do.”

“Not Kai’s?”

“Can’t I be both?”

“You’re a trip, Next-Door-Charlie.”

He hangs his head between his arms and laughs again. “It’s Barnes,” he tells me. “Charlie Barnes.”

“I like Next-Door-Charlie.”

“Alright, Banks.” He tips his bottle to his lips. “Alright.”

“Banks?”

The two of us look to our left to find Kai, who has his protective big brother face on till he takes a good look at Charlie.

“Charlie?”

“Hey, Kai,” he replies casually, and the bro-hug ensues.

“Holy shit, man it’s been forever.”

It was that night, that Next-Door-Charlie walked back into our lives.

Remember that conversation I was having with Perry?

The one about me not living up to male expectations?

I’ve got to explain that one too.

I’m a version of a kink. I’m an experience men want to see if I am just like the porn they’ve been watching or like the girl from college their roommate told them about. I am a stereotype to men. Nothing but a check mark.

And it’s not that I don’t empathize with them.

I have my own kinks.

Especially for made-up men. The ones who always say the right thing at the last moment. The ones who will fuck you into next week and snuggle afterward. The ones who hold you when you’re hurting, protect you when you’re in danger, and would quite literally kill for you—if that’s your kink. Sometimes it's mine, depending on my mood or how my week went. A bad boy with a heart of gold for one very special girl. We all have a kink for him.

Much like how I am often disappointed when I realize that my kink doesn’t exist, so are these men.

I’m a half-breed, one that doesn’t really fit in with either side. My hair was too dark, my skin too light to be olive, my eyes too catty, my nose too flat, my lips too big, my eyebrows too bushy, my boobs too busty and my hips too wide. I would say my tummy is problematic as well, but she’s not what drives up my pant size. Not that my grandmother can be convinced of that, constantly poking at it, demanding that the blubber protecting my uterus is too thick. Of course, everything about me could be picked apart and dismantled, rearranged, and done again, I am a woman and therefore there is always something that’s ‘too’.

Sometimes I feel less than that.

I feel less than a woman as I attempt to simply exist as an Asian American.

I am treated like an object by the opposite sex when all I truly desire is to be loved.

My mother tries to sympathize, but by default it’s challenging. I grew up with the American dream as a mother. Pale crystal skin, round beady blue eyes, and more blonde hair than she knows what to do with. And she found love .

She fell for my father, a full Japanese man, born and raised in the States. Though only micro pieces of our culture have survived in these modern times alas some of the more should I say, annoying ones stood. My brothers are quite the opposite of me, and I am sure this is just by design. Part of the whole XX and XY thing. What makes me a novelty is the very same thing that makes them desirable. Desirable in an ‘I want your last name and your babies’ kind of way.

For a while, I kept trying.

Accepting dates and doing my very best to give them the benefit of the doubt, but I kept running into the same series of events. Some of my favorite lines include the following.

“You’re thick for an Asian girl.”

I realize there’s a completely different beauty standard in Asia than in the States, I however have only ever lived in the States and half my genetics are not Asian. Yet, I love to hear them tell me as if I don’t know what my own body looks like. I know I’m not tiny, but I’m not entirely huge either. I’m a size ten, sometimes twelve.

“You don’t speak your native tongue?”

I didn’t realize Americans had their own language. I just assumed we stole it from England like we stole the land from the natives.

“You’re a virgin?”

Shocking.

“Your eyes are blue?”

Love those recessive genes.

“Won’t you give me a blowie under the table? I saw that on PornHub by a cute Asian girl like you.”

One time I asked what he was going to pay me for my services. That quickly shut an already shitty date down .

I’m rambling, but you likely want to know what that has to do with Charlie.

And the answer is everything.