When Leansei's shift at the restaurant was over, he walked to the nearest fast-food place with neon buzzing over the door and ordered the one meal he could afford that still tasted like comfort. Fried chicken, rice, and gravy. Cheap. Hot. Enough. He ate with his head down, not tasting it so much as needing it.
After, he crossed Larken Bridge.
After, he ambled along the side walk as he walked across the bridge, gazing at the beautiful Larken Lake at night was the one thing in Lemous City that didn't feel bought. The water was black glass under the lamps. The cold breeze came off it and cut through his shirt. It smelled like lake and asphalt and something clean he couldn't name. For a minute he let himself just look.
As he crossed the pedestrian walk, he glanced at the bar before going inside.
Across the street, Rivigal Bar glowed. It was the bar everyone talked about. The bar rich kids posted. The bar where money moved like water and no one asked where it came from.
Leansei, he filled his thoughts with how to pay Mr. Bien with that sum of money. He can't loan anymore due to the risks. He was thinking of adding another part-time job, but that would be hell for him, or he may have stopped going to classes to lessen the expenses. The math didn't work. It never worked.
Luckily, Leansei met Manager Lim.
Three years ago, when his parents died and the landlord came knocking, Lim had paid his back rent and said, Work it off. The only reason he still had a roof was Manager Lim. She didn't charge any money from Leansei. No interest. No contract instead Just: You work for me now.. He was hired as a waiter and a substitute bartender. The pay was small but it kept him from drowning.
.
He pushed open the door to Rivigal. Sound hit him first. Music. Laughter. The clink of glasses. place was filled with different people with different statuses. Then smell: alcohol, cigarette smoke, perfume, sweat, money. The bar was full of people who didn't worry about bus fare. Dresses that cost more than his monthly rent. Watches that could pay Mr. Bien.
Finally, as he arrived at the counter, a familiar voice was coming towards him.
Leansei didn't get to answer.
And there she was. "Leansei! Thank God. You're an angel," Manager Lim grabbed his hand. She was radiant even at midnight — white skin, hair straight and black to her waist, a dress that fit like it had been poured on. People came to Rivigal for the drinks. They stayed for just her. "Please," she said, eyes bright. "I need a favor. I have to go but there's an errand—" Leansei didn't get to answer because he had no clue of what manager Lim was talking about.
He knew that if the manager acted this way, she would ask him for another favor again. Leansei is thankful for what manager Lim's has done for him. That's why he never says no to every request from her. Thus, Leansei is also desperate to have an income since he has a lot of bills and debts on his hands to take care of.
If he isn't needy at all, he would live his life in a stable and free way. This kind of way of living can cut his life span or shorten his life due to texhaustion and stress. He also believes that too much pride will not get him anywhere but starve to death.
"You can't say no to this!" The manager, Lim, exclaimed, while already digging in her purse.
Manager Lim is a transgender person. She has white skin, long straight hair, and a figure that every girl dreams of having. Ever since, people adore her so much that they mostly come here for her, regardless of who she is. "You must go there now! Take this envelope and go to this address."
"Manager, I—"
"No more. This is exclusive. One night. Good pay. Take this." She shoved an envelope into his chest and pushed him toward the back door. "Address is inside! All you do is serve drinks! Don't disappoint me, baby!" The door shut.
Leansei stood on the sidewalk and he let out a deep breath before he opened the envelope.
Heavy paper. Gold lettering. An address in the wealthiest district of Lemous.
Exclusive Grand Celebration. One Night Service Staff.
And at the bottom: the salary.
It was carved in fancy paper with classy writing. It's a high-class hiring job; specifically, it has a location in the bottom left part and a written letter aligned in the middle. An address in the wealthiest district of Lemous. Exclusive Grand Celebration. One Night Service Staff. And at the bottom: the salary.
Leansei coughed as he nearly choked on his saliva as he read the salary amount for this job. The money is enough to feed his stomach, buy groceries, pay the bills, and pay Mr. Bien half left of the debt.
He didn't waste anymore time and dashed his way through the side walk; nonetheless, he was still further away from the waiting shed.
As the waiting shed came into his sight, he stopped at the moment when cars started to move in front of him. He glanced at the stop light when it was green. Leansei thought that would be the end of the wait, but fate intervened when the rain began to fall in small droplets. He tried using his bag as an umbrella, but it was useless.
Leansei looked around, but there were no nearby shops to stay in until the rain stopped. The first drops were small. Polite. By the time he reached the shelter they were falling harder, cold against his neck.
"Shit—," he muttered as the rain continued to fall.
He set the bag down, pulled out a plastic sheet from inside, and carefully wrapped the envelope and what cash he had. The letter was more important than his head. He stood there, one hand lifted over his hair like that would help, getting soaked.
As the light rain continued to fall, a shadow moved. He felt someone standing beside him with an umbrella large enough to cover Len's from the rain. He slowly glanced at the guy beside him and saw him looking at the road as if he's not there. It is a good-looking man holding a Big, Black, and Dome-shaped. Enough for two. He wasn't looking at Leansei. He was looking at the road, like Leansei wasn't there.
Leansei's cheeks went hot. He lowered his hand from his head.
After a long period of silence and awkwardness, Leansei swallowed as he felt the presence of the person beside him. It gives an intimidating aura, he's tall. Much taller. Broad through the shoulders under a coat that probably cost more than Leansei made in a month. Dark hair damp at the temples. The smell of him was clean and expensive—cologne, cedar, something warm from the brand of clothes he wore.
Silence, then rain kept falling. Until Leansei flinched as he heard an intimidating yet deep voice beside him say, "You look pathetic." The voice was low. Deep. It cut through the rain. Leansei blinked trying to processed it.
Leansei wasn't able to speak while trying to process what he had just said and when he realized it, "You covered the letter and not yourself. Idiot." Leansei's anger flared, quick and stupid.
Of course he'd covered the letter. The letter was rent. The letter was food. The letter was two more days before Bien put him in the ground.
He opened his mouth—the man took his hand, it was warm and firm. He placed Leansei's hand on the umbrella handle. "Hold it." Leansei looked up, trying to see his face, but the lamp post was behind the man and all he got was shadow and the line of a jaw and the way water ran off the brim of the umbrella and missed him entirely.
The rain kept falling. For the first time in three years, Levous had rain and Leansei was standing under an umbrella he didn't buy, next to a stranger who called him an idiot, holding a letter that might save his life.
He didn't let go of the handle.
"Sir. The car is ready." A man in a black suit appeared out of the rain, holding another umbrella. He didn't look at Leansei. His eyes were only on the man beside him.
And that was when Leansei understood. This man was not ordinary as he was. The way he stood. The way he didn't have to ask for anything twice. The way the air around him moved like people were used to getting out of his way. He carried himself like someone born into rooms where his last name was enough to open doors. Lemous nobility. The kind of family people whispered about on the bus. Vcheroi. Devon. Names that meant buildings and banks and parties no one else was invited to.
The man turned and walked away from him didn't even glance at him. Just walked. "Wait! your umbrella—" Leansei voice stuttered, holding it out like an offering.
No answer. The man in the suit stepped in immediately and held an umbrella over his boss's head.
The man paused at the curb, one hand on the door of a black Mercedes that gleamed even in the rain. "Keep it," he said over his shoulder. "Or throw it away." Then the door closed. The car pulled away, taillights bleeding red into the wet street.
Leansei stood there with a $300 umbrella in his hand and water dripping down his back.
Behind him, voices.
"Was that—"
"No way. That was a Vcheroi."
"Who was the guy with him?"
"Look at him. He looks like he sleeps in a bus shelter."
"Probably did it on purpose. You know how they like projects."
A laugh.
Leansei didn't mind the people behind him; instead, he thought of what had just happened as he crossed the street. Lesson learned, again: get too close to people with power and you become gossip. You become a story other people tell to feel better about themselves.
.
He wanted to give it back. To say thank you. To do something that wasn't just taking.
But he didn't know how. People like that didn't take things back.
Leansei looked up and his breath caught.
Leansei sat by the window and watched the city blur past. In his lap, the umbrella. Black. Heavy. Expensive. Thinking he would never get to thank the people who helped him. Leansei wants to repay the kindness, but he doesn't know how.
With restrained motion, Leansei arrived at the destination, and he was stunned to see a large cruise that he hadn't seen before. A ship. White and massive, lit up like a city. Three stories of glass and steel. Music spilling out onto the water. It could hold 500 people easily or maybe more.
His stomach dropped. Excitement and fear hit him at the same time. This was the kind of job that paid what Manager Lim promised. This was also the kind of place where people like him didn't belong unless they were carrying a tray.
He got off the bus.
People were already walking toward the gangway. Men in tuxedos. Women in dresses that caught the light and threw it back. Jewelry. Perfume. Shoes that had never seen rain. They moved like the world had been built for them.
Leansei shrank inside his wet shirt. He felt like a power plug trying to fit into a socket made for a different country. Wrong shape. Wrong voltage. If he forced it, something would spark.
He clutched the umbrella tighter and the envelope in his plastic bag.
' Serve drinks. That's all. Don't talk. Don't stare. Don't be seen. '
The rain fell harder.
Leansei stepped onto the dock. The music got louder. He didn't know it yet, but the rain had just started.
.
The entrance was lit like a stage. Two men in black stood in front of it, rain beading on their shoulders. One of them held a clipboard and looked at Leansei like he was a smudge on glass.
"Name." It wasn't a question. The body guards said as they looked at him from head to toe, Leansei dug the plastic out of his bag with wet fingers and held out the envelope. His hands were shaking. From cold. From nerves. From everything.
The guard didn't open it. He just stared at Leansei's face—the bruise, the cut, the cheap shoes— then at the gold lettering on the envelope.
A beat. Then he stepped aside.
"Follow me." Leansei did. The back corridors of the ship were nothing like the front. No chandeliers. No music. Just white walls, rubber floors, and the smell of bleach and steel.
"Your job is simple," the guard said without turning around. "Serve what they ask for. Don't talk unless you're spoken to. And for God's sake, no trouble. These people pay for quiet." He stopped at a door marked STAFF. "Change your clothes immediately. The celebration is about to begin i five," he said before he left him alone.
Leansei pushed the door open and closed the umbrella, water pooling at his feet. Inside: rows of lockers, a long mirror, the smell of other people's cologne. He pulled out the uniform Manager Lim had sent over earlier that week. Red blazer. Crisp white shirt. Ribbon tie. Red trousers. Shoes that didn't pinch, for once.
He dressed fast.
When he looked in the mirror, he didn't recognize himself. The red made his skin look warmer. The tie made his neck look longer. For the first time in years, he didn't look like a boy running between jobs. He looked like someone who belonged in a room. He smiled, small and disbelieving.
' I'll thank her for this. I have to.'
He grabbed the umbrella and went back out. The rain hadn't stopped. If anything, it was heavier now, drumming on the deck above him. But no one had canceled anything. The lights on the ship were still on. The music was still playing. A horn sounded—low, deep—and vibrated through his chest.
The ship was moving. Leansei found himself at the railing without meaning to.
Larken Lake stretched out, black and endless, cut by the ship's wake. The rain hit the water and made it look like the whole world was breathing. The air was cold and clean and smelled like lake and metal and something new. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He stood there and let it hit his face. He smiled as he realized he never got to wear things like this. He will surely thank the manager for giving him this opportunity.
Before he could speak, the other man stepped forward. Same age. Same suit, but lighter. Smiling in a way that didn't reach his eyes.
"Sir, let's go inside. Everyone is waiting for you two." The voice came from behind him. Leansei turned too fast and froze. He almost forgot that he was here for a job.
He gradually looked behind him, and he was stunned to see a familiar person.
The man from the bus shelter. Navy suit now, tailored to the shoulder. Hair combed back. No umbrella. Water still clung to the collar of his coat. Blue eyes. Cold. Direct. Looking at Leansei like he was trying to decide if he was real.
Electricity ran down Leansei's spine. His heart did something stupid and fast.
' Isn't that him? The arrogant person from the crosswalk? '
"Hey," said the other good-looking guy beside the blue-eyed guy, and he turned to Lean. "What are you staring at? Come on."
Then, louder, to Leansei: "You! Staff. We're waiting inside. Move." The ship manager appeared then, face tight. "You. New guy. Guests are waiting. Do your job."
Leansei bowed his head once and walked past them. He could feel the blue-eyed man's gaze on the back of his neck all the way to the door.
Inside, the ballroom was gold and crystal and noise. 500 people. Maybe more. Laughter, music, the pop of champagne and Leansei, in his red blazer, holding a tray he didn't remember picking up, with rain still drying in his hair.
.
Minutes bled together.
Leansei moved through the ballroom with a tray balanced on one hand, weaving between laughter and diamonds. Glasses of champagne. Plates of things he couldn't name. Smile. Nod. Don't spill.
The floor was slick under his shoes. Every step was a calculation.
Leansei held onto the wall as he began to feel nauseated. By the third round, his stomach had turned. He'd never been on a ship before. Never felt the slow, rolling lift beneath his feet. The world tilted and didn't stop. He pressed a hand to his chest, breathing shallow, willing the nausea down. Don't be sick. Not here. Not now.
A shout cut through the music.
From the back deck. Sharp. Female. Furious. Leansei flinched when he heard a shout in the back of the deck. He dropped the tray on the nearest table and ran. Rain hit him the second the door opened. Cold and immediate. He forgot the umbrella. Forgot everything except the two girls fighting at the end of the railing.
Leansei hurriedly walked towards them in a panic. The short-haired one and the red-haired one.
They were soaked. Hair plastered to their faces. Screaming over each other.
"Y-You thought I wouldn't do it?!" a mad voice from the redhead had a fist in the other girl's hair, yanking. Leansei came in between them while they were soaking in the rain.
"I don't know what you're talking about! Let me go! Crazy bitch!"
Leansei stepped between them, arms out. "Ma'am. This isn't the place. You need to go back inside—" Leansei couldn't finish his phrases when the redhead shoved him hard. He was weak and nauseated. The push sent him stumbling back a step. Rain ran down his collar. He didn't have enough strength to not be swayed by the red-haired girl's shove.
"You slut! Give me that record!" Leansei tried to stop them for a second time, "Please. Let's go inside. Someone will get hurt." The slap came out of nowhere. Pain burst across his cheek, right over the bruise from that morning. He hit the railing with his hip and gasped. "You should stay away from this!" the redhead spat, rain in her teeth. "Disgusting slave."
"I'll kill you," the redhead said, and shoved the short-haired girl toward the edge. Toward him.
The word landed harder than the hand.
He tried to stand. The deck was wet. His legs were shaking. His stomach rolled. "I'll kill you!" As Leansei heard that, he saw the red-haired girl were planning to push the girl towards his direction at the edge of the deck. But Lean pushed the short-haired girl infront of him. Unfortunately, the red-haired girl pushed Leansei to the edge of the deck instead of the other girl. From the out of balance and slippery floor, he was pushed off the deck and fell into the deep and wavering water.
He kicked. Reached. The surface was a thin sheet of light above him. But his body wouldn't answer. The nausea, the exhaustion, the hits from that morning — they had all been waiting for this moment and above, the moon. Full. White. Impossibly bright. It cut through the water and pinned him in place, like a hand on his chest.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. The moon watched him drown. Air left his lungs in a slow bubble. His chest tightened. His vision tunneled and in the last seconds, when everything went quiet except the sound of water in his ears, he thought:
I haven't paid Bien.
I haven't thanked Manager Lim and Owner.
I haven't eaten that lived properly.
I need to live.
It wasn't a plea to a merciful god. It wasn't because he thought the world was beautiful. It wasn't. It was because the world had never given him the chance to decide for himself.
When the moon above cast a spotlight on Leansei, he was unable to move. It was like devouring his soul deep within himself. As he started drowning, he stared at the stunning full round moon until he could feel his chest tightening and was about to run out of air.
Above him, the single hanging bulb flickered. The light died down to a dull, orange wire, throwing long, heavy shadows across the walls. A deep, hollow cold settled into his chest, numbing his hands first, then his arms, pulling him down into a heavy sleep.
He was gradually drowning. That made him slowly lose consciousness. His lungs refused to expand. The air in the room felt like solid ice. Yet, through the fading gray of his mind, a final, sharp thought cut through the dark.
' I will survive this. No matter what they throw at me, I will live. '
All he could think of before his last breath was the determination and strong desire to live his life regardless of his situation. Then, the floor vanished beneath him, and the entire room tilted into the abyss.
"I need to live."