Chapter 8 Felix #3
I couldn’t just not ever message him and still go to Fat Cat’s. And I couldn’t refuse to fetch the team’s coffee from the cafe because of him, else they’d all relentlessly tease me for it.
So I texted the number, and we started hanging out.
It was horribly awkward at first; I thought I’d faint from the stress of it.
But Wren was unbelievably good at talking.
One of those people who can fill any silence, who knew just the right questions to ask.
And it turned out we were interested in lots of the same stuff—games, music, a couple of the same anime shows.
We’d both read the entire Game of Thrones series twice, and spent hours debating the merits of the TV show, and theorising what might happen in the last book, though I was convinced George R.R.
Martin couldn’t be bothered to write it now he was rich.
Wren was also unbelievably gentlemanly. He put me at ease with casual light touches that never went any further. I didn’t even mind hugging him, or him putting his arm around me during walks or films.
But then nothing happened between us. At all.
Things got weirder and weirder, until the time where I went completely mental and tried to kiss him, thinking it was what he wanted, what I was supposed to do next.
It must have been some truly tragic kissing, because he’d pulled back and said, “You don’t need to do that, Felix. I know you’re not into me like that. I just want to be friends.”
I suddenly realised then, he was completely right.
That I didn’t fancy him like that. Even though he was a charming, awesome human and I really enjoyed being his friend.
Attraction hardly ever happened for me anyway, and when it did, it took ages to develop.
It felt like something was wrong with me.
Wren and I got on brilliantly, had everything in common, and I still felt nothing romantic.
“So if not Wren, who are you dating at the minute?”
“Nobody. But if there was someone, I wouldn’t be telling you all about it.”
“Is there anyone you’d want to date? You know that Eomma and Appa would be totally cool if it was a guy, right? Well, Appa would be at least. Eomma might need a moment. But was that the problem with Wren?”
“Who’s Wren?” Appa asked.
“Just a friend,” I said quickly.
“Well?” Lily pressed.
Did I want to date someone? I thought about it. Possibly. Maybe one day soon. It might be nice. So far my only dating experience was two different girls at uni, and one barely counted as we only slept together once. It was probably time to force myself to try again.
An impression formed in my mind. Not a specific person. More of a shape, a vibe. Someone solid and safe. Someone who made me feel sheltered instead of like I was constantly braced for impact. Someone who made me feel calm instead of jittery. Someone with kind eyes and careful hands and—
I shook my head to clear it.
“Felix?” Lily was staring at me. “You’ve gone all weird and dreamy.”
“Dinner!” Eomma’s voice called from the kitchen, cutting through whatever uncomfortable territory this conversation was heading towards.
We all migrated to the dining room, where she’d laid out a spread that could have fed twice as many people. Bulgogi, kimchi, rice, and about six side dishes.
Two minutes into eating, my mother cleared her throat, and I knew what was coming. “Min-jun, I just wanted to let you know that two vacancies are going up next week. The starting salary alone would be—”
“Eomma,” I said quietly, “we’ve talked about this. Many, many times.”
“Yes, well.” She stabbed at her plate. “I still don’t remember you giving me a proper explanation for why you’re wasting your potential in some basic support role.”
The kimchi turned to ash in my mouth. Every Wednesday, the same conversation. Every Wednesday, the same crushing weight of her expectations pressing down on my chest.
“Eomma, you know he likes what he does,” Lily said, shooting me a sympathetic look. “You need to stop nagging him now. We’re all sick of it!”
“Liking something and reaching your potential are two different things,” Eomma replied sharply. “I didn’t work eighteen-hour days building my career so my son could answer phone calls about forgotten passwords.”
“His company sounds super interesting and important!” said Lily.
“Su-jin, his company sells secondhand barcode scanners,” Eomma replied, an eyebrow raised. “Does that sound like your idea of a good time?”
I played with my rice, wishing I could tell her the truth. That I wasn’t answering phone calls about passwords. That I was part of something important, something that mattered. That Seb trusted me with security for an entire underground organisation.
But I couldn’t. And even if I could, would she believe that counted as reaching my potential?
The rest of the meal dragged on, with Eomma making pointed comments between mouthfuls of bulgogi, and Appa trying to steer the conversation towards safer topics—the weather, Lily’s uni course, anything else.
By the time I helped clear the dishes, my shoulders ached from keeping them tensed against the constant barrage of passive-aggressive remarks. At least the food had been brilliant, as always.
“Right, I should head back,” I announced, grabbing my jacket from the hallway.
Lily appeared beside me as I was pulling on my trainers. “Ignore her,” she whispered, wrapping me in one of her bone-crushing hugs. “I’m happy you love your job. Even if it is to do with barcode scanners.”
I squeezed her back, grateful for the solidarity. “Thanks, Lil.”
The evening air hit my face as I stepped outside, crisp and sharp. I pulled my hood up and started the walk back to the station, already dreading the Tube journey ahead.
My phone rang.
I glanced at the screen—unknown number. Like any sensible member of my generation, I let it go to voicemail.
It rang again almost immediately.
My paranoid brain immediately went into overdrive. What if someone was following me and they were calling to taunt me? What if it was some kind of trap? What if—
Stop it, I told myself. It’s probably a spam call.
But when it rang a third time, my hands shook as I fumbled for the accept button.
“Hello?” I said tentatively, as if expecting some spooky voice to jump-scare me.
“Felix? Is that you? It’s Emma.”
“Oh… um… hi?” What the hell was Priya’s girlfriend calling me for? I really didn’t have the energy for this tonight. “Can I help you?”
“I’m sorry to just ring you out of the blue like this.” She sighed deeply. “I’m just… I’m going out of my mind, Felix, and you’re the only one I trust.”
Cold dread settled in my stomach. “How so?”
“I’m going out of my mind worrying about Priya. About whether she’s safe or not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, could you… could you please just tell me what the hell goes on in that building all day?”
My voice pitched higher. “Oh, at Killigrew Street Hotel?”
“Yes, Felix. Killigrew Street Hotel. Where you all go. Every single day.”
“We’re… we’re renovating the building!” My voice came out squeaky and unconvincing. “You know that! Priya’s told you all about it, and… and… her project!”
“Felix! Cut the crap. I’ve never seen even a lick of paint on any of you, and there’s no way you’re a fucking electrician! And I’m becoming less and less convinced Priya is even enrolled in an interior design course!”
For a long moment, the only sound was my rapid breathing as I fought against hyperventilation. I considered hanging up, my thumb hovering over the red button.
“I just don’t know why she’s spun me this ridiculous lie! Well, I do know,” she added bitterly. “You’re all up to something dodgy. Something illegal. I knew Sebastián was trouble from that night he attacked Flynn in an alley.”
“Right… the alley…” I repeated, heart rate in overdrive. I was heading for a full system crash.
“The only thing I can think of is that you’re all in a gang together.
But I’m not going to lie—if you’re a gang, then you’re the weirdest gang I’ve ever seen.
” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Is it money laundering, Felix? Are you money laundering? Please tell me it’s money laundering and nothing worse! ”
“I… have to go.” I couldn’t take another second of the conversation.
“Wait!” she shouted, desperation seeping into her tone. “Is Sebastián threatening you all? Because if he is, I can help. The police can help.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I just need to know that she’s safe!”
“You need to talk to Priya about this!” I basically screeched at her, then hung up, my heart thumping so fast I clutched my chest. I forced two large, unsteady gulps of air into my lungs.
Jesus Christ.
My hands were still shaking as I stared at the phone screen. Had I said too much? Not enough? Emma clearly wasn’t buying it.
What if she actually went to the police?
I rubbed my face, trying to think through the panic.
This was exactly the sort of situation I was rubbish at handling.
I bet she targeted me to ring because she knew I’d crumble.
The weekly IT support stories I relayed to my parents were rehearsed for hours the night before, and I’d spent days building my pretend company a flawlessly convincing website.
I’d gone as far as building in the ability to order barcode scanners, and they’d actually arrive at your address.
But fending off Emma’s barrage of questions? That was on another level.
I’d have to tell Priya tomorrow about the call. But how do you even begin that conversation? “Oh, by the way, your girlfriend thinks we’re all liars and criminals and specifically suspects your boss of being a violent gang leader.”
Nausea roiled heavy in my gut. I’d probably made everything worse by hanging up on her like that. By not directly refuting her statements.
My phone lit up with an incoming message from Priya, and my heart seized.
Priya
So this is random, but don’t bring lunch tomorrow. I have loads of spare quiche, and I need your help to eat it.
I stared at it in disbelief. Lunch? All I could think about was Emma’s voice—how desperate she’d sounded, how worried she was about Priya’s safety. How she’d mentioned the police.
Oh, and don’t forget what I said about those glasses. The tea leaves don’t lie, Felix. They don’t lie.