Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“You should invite someone to come along," August said as they threw chocolate chips into the dough and turned the stand mixer back on. They spoke up over it: “Iris is meeting us there.”
“That’s a given,” Luka replied from where he sat on the kitchen counter, not helping with the cookies. “There’s always people we know at Corner.”
August flipped the stand mixer off, raised the head, then pulled out the baking sheets. “If Jay’s there, don't invite him to sit with us.”
“I don’t get what you have against him.”
The baking sheets clattered onto the kitchen island. “He broke your heart. He cheated on you. I don’t forgive as easy as you.”
“Our breakup was fine. We are fine," Luka said to August for possibly the hundredth time. “He was right to break up with me.”
August gave him a sour look before sticking the scooper into the dough.
“I’m being serious. He couldn’t give me the level of commitment I wanted and he knew it.”
“He’s a slut.”
“We don’t slut shame in this home," Luka scolded, teasing. “I won’t invite him to sit, anyway. He’ll give me grief.”
August nodded with all the heavy wisdom of an old wizard. “Because Reno.”
“He was the first to notice," Luka agreed, feeling burdened himself.
“Don’t you think that’s weird?” August said. “Wonder if he still has notifs for your Twitter turned on.”
“Not my business if he does," Luka replied. “He can do whatever he wants, other than bother me about my life. Which, by the way, he typically does not," Luka half-lied. “He’ll tease me.”
“Only I’m allowed to do that.”
“I know.” Luka watched August put the cookies into the oven and set the timer. “Don’t fret, no one else usually does.”
“Good. Why don’t you see if Reno can come? He has a night off, right?” August suggested, not understanding how ridiculous that was.
Luka barked a laugh. “No way. Besides, he's writing lyrics with someone named Sebastian. Something about French being a bastard language.”
“Does he speak French?”
“No clue, haven’t asked. The vocalist sings in it and a few other languages.” Even after a full day of pretty consistent back and forth between Reno and him, he didn’t feel comfortable asking personal questions. “And I’m not asking him out for a drink.”
“Your loss," August said, peering down to look at the baking cookies through the oven window. When they didn’t say anything else, Luka slid off the counter and left to get ready for the night.
The Corner Bar was a classic dive bar, nothing special; just sticky wooden tables and cheap drinks.
So he changed his shirt and pulled his hair back into a low, messy bun, and made sure he didn’t have anything in his teeth or on his face and called it good enough.
He grabbed the studded leather jacket from his closet after checking the weather; it was supposed to drop in temperature again, maybe even rain.
August was putting the cookies into several old ramen carry-out containers and sealing them shut to leave on the counter when Luka came back into the kitchen. He helped them clean everything up, eating dough off the side of the mixing bowl, then they fed Michael and took a rideshare to The Corner.
“Auggie!” Iris, August’s girlfriend, leapt out of her seat when they arrived on the patio.
“Gross," Luka said, and August punched him in the arm before scooping Iris up and giving her a spin. “Auggie.”
“Don’t you start.” August put their girlfriend down and looked ready to punch Luka again. Iris laughed and pulled them down to sit at the table.
“What do you want?” Luka asked them, still hovering at the side of the table.
“Hi, Luka," Iris beamed at him and for a moment, he was envious that she could be so beautiful, so openly warm. “You’re looking cute tonight.”
He gave her a once-over. “Thanks, I like your new glasses.” The jade frames really made the green in her dark hazel eyes pop.
“Thank you." She flipped her long blond and black box braids behind her shoulders, manicured nails glimmering in the neon advertising lights around the bar’s patio. “Get me a marg, would you?”
“I’ll take one too, not blended though," August said, already engrossed in wrapping their girlfriend’s hair around their fingers. Luka rolled his eyes and left for the bar; neither of them were getting blended then.
“Two margaritas on the rocks, an old-fashioned, two shots of tequila and one whiskey. Well is fine. Thanks,” Luka ordered when the bartender asked. He didn’t know the guy working tonight, which was unusual. He internally bemoaned the incoming bill with no friend discount.
[Unknown number]
How’s this sound?
My wings are made from glass, My sins scattered all around me.
I can’t see them—I can’t see them.
Up and towards distant past, Le vent emporte mon passé.
Ne pars pas—Ne pars pas
“Hold on a second.” Luka’s eyes bugged as he looked at his phone screen.
“What is my life right now?” He tore his gaze away from the phone to stare at the TV over the bar.
It was playing Looney Tunes and he had to fight the urge to put his head down onto the old bartop and scream.
The bartender placed shot glasses in front of him and filled them.
He asked, “Need help carrying this?”
“If you have a tray to spare, I’ll bring it back," Luka said, trying very hard to sound normal.
The bartender grabbed one from the end of the counter and put the drinks on it. “Wanna keep a tab open?”
“Yeah.” Luka handed him his debit card, watching Bugs Bunny singing an aria in drag out of the corner of his eye as he tried to stave off a complete meltdown. He walked the drinks over to where his friends were sitting and got a welcoming cheer from Iris when he handed her the margarita.
He returned the tray in a daze then sat down across from August. The shot of whiskey burned all the way down.
He pulled his phone back out and dropped the last two sentences into Google Translate. The wind carries away my past. Don’t go - Don’t go.”
[Unknown Number]
Are you asking my opinion on song lyrics?
Yeah! We just got done with a writing sesh. Arnaud had to help me a little with French I never remember my vocab and Seb refuses to learn lol
whos arnaud and seb? :) I don't know any French, I had to use translate.
Oh, sorry! Arnaud is Zana and Sebastian's King. I forget sometime people don't know their name.
I'm not a poet or anything but I think they are rly good! Just surprised you'd ask me my thoughts. Is Reno ur name then, since your friends go by something different?
Nope, but only my family and Arnaud sometime call me by my birth name. I start to use Reno when I moved to London. T-yan only lets me and the band use his birth name, too.
“What are you smiling about?” Iris kicked him under the table, her shoe surprisingly sharp.
Luka finally took a sip of his neglected drink and said, “I am not smiling.”
[Unknown Number]
and of course I asked, I want to know all your thoughts.
Luka started coughing, choking on nothing, and put his phone face down.
“You’re so pink," Iris said.
“Always am.” Luka pointed to his hair, trying to compose himself. He could feel his cheeks burning.
August butted in, “What did he say now?”
“I can’t.” Luka flipped his phone screen up and entered the password before sliding the phone to August.
“Oh, who’s this?” Iris was leaning over her partner’s shoulder to peek. “You don’t have the number saved.”
“If I save it, it’ll be too real.” Luka’s face wasn’t getting any cooler. He wished he had another shot of whiskey so he had an excuse for being so flushed.
“This, my love, is that guy he has a picture of on his backpack," August told Iris, half-smirking, half-looking amazed as they scrolled through Luka and Reno’s text chain.
“I do not have his photo on my backpack.”
“Anymore," August said. “You do not have his photo on your backpack anymore. Y'all have been nonstop!” They finally stopped scrolling and went back to the most recent text. “Ope, he texted again. I love a man who’s not afraid to double text.”
“You don’t even like men.” Luka grabbed his phone back and looked at the latest message.
[Unknown Number]
Too forward?
No, no! I was just trying to figure out what to say… I'm not used to this.
“Wait, so he was asking you what you thought about song lyrics? What band is he in?” Iris asked, stirring her drink with a cocktail straw.
“Voltage," Luka muttered and Iris tilted her head, her earrings tangling together. “Voltage," Luka said a bit louder, to be heard over the bar’s ambient noise.
“No shit?” Iris swore, pausing her stirring. “I don’t even like metal and I know of them. Is it the singer?”
“No, guitar.”
“Aw, but the singer’s a cutie. Wait, their guitarist writes the lyrics? Don’t the vocalists usually do that?”
“Focus, babe," August said.
[Unknown Number]
Used to what?
Attention, I guess? I don't know how to phrase it.
Luka started digging around in his pockets for his cigarettes and a lighter.
“They’ve been texting nonstop; it’s been an ordeal. I mean, he’s pretty popular, to say the least, and he sought out our boy here. Saw him headbanging at the concert and knew he had to be his soulmate.”
“It’s not like that," Luka said defensively around the cigarette in his mouth. He clicked the lighter and took a drag.
“Uh huh,” August said, taking a long sip from their drink until it slurped annoyingly loud. “I'm getting another round, who’s in?”
“Me," Luka said. “Just tell them to add it to my tab.”
“Oh, how I love you and your corporate bank money.”
“I am not wealthy.” Luka scowled, knowing he was still fortunate to have enough in his savings to cover a few months' rent and bills if he got laid off or something happened to him. “I just like you.”
“How sweet," August said, then turned away in pursuit of more alcohol.
Once they had left, Iris turned to him. “You doing okay, hon?” she asked, looking genuinely concerned. “You’re more prickly than usual.”